


Pledge

by MelissaWritesStuff



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Homophobic Language, M/M, Slow Build, Temporary Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager, Temporary Marco Bott/Levi Ackerman, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 61,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelissaWritesStuff/pseuds/MelissaWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys at the fraternity are really into public humiliation. Jean Kirschtein is really big on not being a jerk to the nice, freckled guy they force him to make out with. And Marco Bodt is unfortunately into boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Am So Sorry, Marco Bodt

_This is so wrong_ , Jean thought to himself. He could feel his hands shaking at his sides as he stepped closer and closer to Marco’s dorm room. _I am literally the worst human being on the planet_.

“Your mission is easy,” the boys at the fraternity had said. “You remember that one kid who was pledging but dropped out? Tall one with the freckles?”

Of course Jean had remembered him; he had spent the entire introduction party looking like he was going to faint.

“We’ve heard rumors, and it turns out he’s a huge homo,” said the leader of the fraternity. “So all you have to do is ask him out, get him to make out with you, and get a picture on your phone as proof. Do it, and we’ll let you in.”

Jean had immediately felt sick. He didn’t even know where to begin with the amounts of wrong this mission entailed. It was cruel to Marco, for one. It was also really homophobic, just taking advantage of Marco’s sexuality to embarrass Jean. And yet, the issue Jean decided to point out was, “But I’m not gay.”

“Exactly,” the guys said with a laugh. “It’ll be hilarious. C’mon, man, just do it. You want in, don’t you?”

The answer to that was yes. Jean definitely wanted to be in this fraternity.

But as he approached Marco’s dorm, he was already beginning to regret everything.

As he lifted his hand to knock on the door, Jean replayed the moment in his mind of when he had asked Marco to dinner. Marco’s eyes had gone all wide with excitement, and he’d smiled so big as he said, “That sounds great!” And as Jean remembered this, he reminded himself that he was, most definitely, the worst human being on the planet.

Marco answered the door quickly after Jean had knocked, making it clear he’d been waiting for Jean’s arrival. Jean felt his face start to get hot as he saw Marco’s grinning face.

“Hey, Jean!” _God, why does he have to be so happy? Don’t be happy. Hate me. Tell me to go away._

“Um, hey, Marco,” Jean replied, trying to keep the horrible guilt out of his voice. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my wallet-”

“Oh, no, don’t bother,” Jean interrupted, a sudden wave of confidence coming over him as he winked at Marco. “This one’s on me.”

Now Marco was blushing. “O-Oh, um, okay. Thanks.”

Marco stepped out of his dorm and, locking the door behind him, set off with Jean to go on their date.

_I am, without a doubt, the worst human being on the planet._

~

“No, Jean, it’s like this,” Marco said, demonstrating the correct way to hold chopsticks as he expertly picked up a clump of rice.

“Dude, I swear to fuck, that is exactly what I’m doing,” Jean snapped as he failed to pick up any food with his awkward hand position.

Marco chuckled to himself as he reached across the table, taking Jean’s hand in his as he adjusted Jean’s fingers. Jean immediately blushed, and he could tell by the knowing look in Marco’s eyes that Marco had noticed. _Dude, please, just stop_ , Jean pleaded, hoping Marco could read his mind. _Just get up and walk out on me. I am dead serious, dude, just get up and leave. This is going to suck so much._

“There. Try now,” Marco said as he sat back in his chair.

Jean went to try and pick up some chicken and found that it was a thousand times easier now. “Holy shit, that really works,” Jean said in disbelief.

Marco laughed. “Told you.”

And then Marco gave Jean _the look_. The this-is-going-really-well look. The I’m-having-a-really-nice-time-with-you look. The I-think-you’re-having-a-nice-time-too look. It was a look that meant this was going to be all the more awful when it happened. When Marco found out that this was all just so Jean could get into a fraternity. _I mean, Jesus Christ, I’m not even gay_.

Jean looked down from Marco’s gaze to poke around at his food. _This is going to suck so fucking much_.

~

After Jean had paid for dinner, the two went for a walk outside. It was starting to get pretty cold as the season faded into the peak of autumn. Marco preyed on this walked close to Jean as they trekked across campus, the full moon making for some romantic lighting. _Fuck you, too, nature_ , Jean thought bitterly, knowing that the moment was coming soon.

Jean began to wonder when it would be a good time to try and do it, and figured he ought to do it now, while they were walking. The last thing he wanted was to have to do this back in Marco’s dorm, having to ditch after dropping the bombshell. It would be even worse in his own dorm, if Marco had to leave and walk all the way back to his own hall alone after that. Here, they were halfway between their buildings... This could work. It was the middle ground between two evils.

Just then, Marco slipped his hand out of his pocket and instead intertwined his fingers with Jean’s. Jean’s face turned red for the thousandth time that evening.

_Dude, I am so, so fucking sorry._

“Hey, Marco,” Jean said, stopping in his tracks. Marco stopped as well, glancing down at their clasped hands like he was afraid he’d done something wrong.

And Jean hesitated. Because there were a thousand things wrong with what he was about to do.

_C’mon, man, you didn’t come this far just to chicken out now, he reminded himself. You have to join this fraternity, Jean._

Jean took a deep breath, and leaned forward, his lips meeting Marco’s in his first ever kiss with a guy. Marco froze for a moment in surprise, but quickly leaned back against Jean.

 _This is weird_ , Jean thought to himself. Although, the weird part was that it wasn’t weird. It was pretty much the same as kissing a girl. For some reason, Jean had built it up so much in his mind that it would be a whole different animal, but really, it wasn’t. It was just little things. Marco was taller, for example. When he lifted a hand to cup Jean’s face, it was bigger and rougher than the hands of girls who had done that to him in the past. He smelled like cologne instead of perfume. The way his lips were moving, though, was the same as every other kiss Jean had had before. And while Jean wasn’t having any _oh, my God, I think I might actually be gay_ moments, it really wasn’t an awful experience. Not enjoyable, but not awful.

 _This isn’t gonna count, Jean_ , he reminded himself. _This is just like any other first kiss. The guys said it had to be a make out_.

 _I am so, so, so fucking sorry, Marco Bodt_.

Jean pulled his hand away Marco’s and instead put his hands on Marco’s neck, pressing harder against him. Marco’s mouth opened slightly and Jean immediately took the opportunity to slip in his tongue.

 _Okay, the tongue makes it worse_ , Jean observed as Marco’s tongue slid against his. Marco, however, seemed to have a differing opinion, and let out a soft sigh as he pressed himself more against Jean.

_Dude, you have no idea how fucking sorry I am._

Jean wanted this to be over already, and, hey, they were making out. All he needed was to sneak his phone out of his pocket and snap a selfie. Then this would all be over, and no one would have to know except him, Marco, and the heads of the fraternity.

This thought actually comforted Jean a little. Some of the missions other pledgers had to complete were big on public humiliation. At least this was only to embarrass Jean by making him make out with another guy. Jean didn't think making out with a guy was embarrassing, which meant he was doing this to Marco for absolutely no reason. But it meant that, unlike the other victims, no one else had to know. That was the one comfort out of this whole situation.

Jean was just about to pull one hand away from Marco to get his cell phone when the worst happened. He saw through his closed eyelids a bright flash, like from a camera. It was quickly followed by several more rapid flashes. A lot of cameras. From a lot people. Follow by loud, obnoxious laughter and even more flashes.

_Oh, just let me drop dead right now. Please. I can’t deal with this._

The second he’d registered what was going on, Jean pulled away from Marco. A small crowd of boys was now howling with laughter, pointing at them. Some were still snapping pictures as they laughed.

“What...?” Marco asked in a quiet voice.

“Dude, I never actually thought you’d go through with this,” said the leader of the fraternity. He came up to Jean and put an arm around my shoulders, grinning widely in a victorious way. “I mean, we’ve been following you for a while now, and things seemed to be going okay, but we were all betting you’d chicken out. And you actually made out with the guy! Good job, man.”

“Jean?”

Jean immediately whipped his head around to look at Marco, who was looking at him with the most innocent, confused expression on his face. And it was clear to Jean that it registered on some level with Marco what was going on. He just was refusing to believe it.

“I... I-I...” Jean stammered, words failing him.

“I mean, you even fucking used tongue on the fag,” the leader said like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Careful, he might not leave you alone after that.”

In that moment, Jean decided he’d like nothing more than to punch him in the face. What a horrible thing to say about a person, much less to say it in person.

Jean looked back at Marco, who now looked close to tears.

_Okay, never mind. I just want Marco to punch me in the face. Please, dude, just do it. I deserve it. Please. I won’t hold it against you at all, man, please. It’ll make us even._

But Marco didn’t punch Jean in the face. He just continued to stare, looking heartbroken, and it was like a knife twisting in Jean’s gut.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Jean finally squeaked out.

Marco hesitated, but nodded before turning and walking toward his dorm. He ignored the taunts the other frat members shouted at his back as he walked away. And Jean said nothing to defend him.

_If it wasn’t official before, it is now: I am the worst human being on the planet._


	2. What Girls Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is a dick and Connie is a bro.

Marco made it back to his dorm with surprising ease, considering tears had been blurring his vision the entire time.

 

_Would you stop fucking crying_ , he told himself in the kind of harshness he saved only for himself. _You’ve been embarrassed enough tonight, you don’t need to add crying about it to the list._ It did nothing to help, though.

 

_I can’t believe I fell for that_. Jean had seemed like such a genuinely nice guy... A little nervous, maybe not quite comfortable with his sexuality yet, but... nice. Playing back the evening in his mind, Marco could see Jean’s actions for what they were. He didn’t blush because he liked Marco; he blushed because Marco embarrassed him. He was quiet at times because he didn’t really care about talking to Marco. He was nervous because he didn’t actually want to be on a date with another guy. 

 

And then, to top it all off, the whole fraternity had to crash their kiss... Judging by Jean’s expression, he had been genuinely surprised by their arrival, but still... It was all just his mission for pledging to the fraternity. Let’s play a joke on the gay guy. And Jean had gone along with it. Said nothing to Marco’s defense while the others laughed at him. _Not a nice guy after all._

 

Marco felt like he had never been so humiliated in all his life. After four years as “the fag with the freckles” at his high school, Marco had thought college was going to be different. No one had to know. Even if they did know, they weren’t going to care. There were going to be a lot more people out of the closet, and Marco wasn’t going to be a singular target anymore. People were going to be more mature here, and the bullying was going to stop.

 

And then, just a few weeks in, Jean had asked him to dinner... Marco couldn’t believe his luck. He hadn’t ever talked to Jean before, and didn’t know anything about him. The thought hadn’t even really occurred to Marco that Jean might be gay. He was just another pledger who happened to be pretty cute, and he just asked Marco to dinner. Just like that. There was no secret meeting, no nervous glances over his shoulder. Just out, in the middle of campus, Jean came up to him and asked, “You want to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?” He looked a little embarrassed with himself, but no more than he would have if he had been asking out a girl. This was what Marco had been waiting for, had been _dying_ for. To get away from his hometown and be able to be open about who he was and what he wanted and _who_ he wanted. And here Jean was, the person he was going to be able to do that with.

 

Marco wasn’t sure what to expect of Jean, but as the date had gone on, he had _really_ liked what he saw. Jean was blunt and honest. He was funny, cracking joke after joke, each worse than the last. They were so bad, Marco couldn’t help but burst out laughing at them. Jean was adorable when he was frustrated, like with the chopsticks at the restaurant... And then when he had blushed when Marco took his hand, Marco had taken it as such a good sign. He had never made someone blush like that before. He thought it meant Jean really liked him. He’d thought...

 

Then, the kiss... Marco had had such a nice time on that date, he was just hoping he would be lucky enough to end it with a goodnight kiss. He liked Jean so much, and wanted to kiss him so badly... As they walked, it had taken all his courage to take Jean’s hand in his. And then Jean had stopped them and kissed him... Marco felt like he had never been so happy as he was when Jean kissed him. It was like all his hopes about college coming true. Here this perfect person was, who was nice and sweet and funny and cute, and he asked Marco and a date, and now he was kissing him...

 

When Jean had moved his chilly hands to Marco’s neck, it had sent shivers down Marco’s spine. Marco gasped a little, and Jean had used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into Marco’s mouth. No one had ever kissed Marco with tongue before, and God, was it good... But it also made him wonder, how far was Jean planning to go this evening? Was he going to pull away any moment and ask Marco to go back to his dorm with him, or ask if he could go to Marco’s?

 

_Would Connie mind leaving us alone for the night?_ Marco had wondered frantically of his roommate, in case Jean asked the latter. _Wait, hold on, do I even want to go further with this guy?_ The soft sigh Marco involuntarily let out at Jean’s tongue running against his own answered his question. _God, yes_.

 

And then, it happened. The boys from the fraternity showed up and all Marco's dreams came crumbling around him. Marco’s first thought, that they were here to make fun of the queers, was bad enough. This wasn’t part of the plan. He was supposed to be able to be open about himself without backlash. He and Jean were...

 

He had looked over at Jean, who had the arm of the leader of the frat around his shoulders. The leader was dealing him heavy praise. “Dude, I never actually thought you’d go through with this,” he’d said. _Go through with what?_ “I mean, we’ve been following you for a while now, and things seemed to be going okay, but we were all betting you’d chicken out. And you actually made out with the guy! Good job, man.”

 

_This can’t mean what I think it means._

 

“Jean?” Marco managed to squeak out.

 

Jean looked over at him, his eyes wide with surprise at what was going on. His face was bright red. But... he wasn’t as surprised as he should have been. He wasn’t as embarrassed as he should have been. He wasn’t reacting the way he would have if this had all been real.

 

“I mean, you even fucking used tongue on the fag,” the leader laughed before Jean had a chance to speak. “Careful, he might not leave you alone after that.”

 

And there it was. Marco was the fag again.

 

Jean was still staring at Marco, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Marco thought of a million things he could have said that would make this all okay. He could say he had no idea what the frat guys were talking about. That this was some huge misunderstanding and this date had been real. That this wasn’t part of his stupid pledge. It didn’t even have to be that; maybe it had started out as part of his pledge, but he had had a nice time on their date, too. That Marco hadn’t made up everything in his head. That at least the kiss was real.

 

And if none of that could be true, he could have at least said some words in Marco’s defense. _Just, please, if he has to say something, let it at least be that_ , Marco pleaded with the universe.

 

But Jean didn’t say any of those things. “I’m really sorry, man,” was all he said.

 

_I’m really sorry, man._

 

When Marco swung open the door to his room, Connie was in there, sitting on the floor with several textbooks open in front of him. He looked up immediately as Marco came in with a big grin on his face.

 

“How’d it go, man?” he asked. He knew exactly how much Marco had been looking forward to this. Connie was Marco’s only friend at school, and he’d been the only one Marco could talk to about it. Marco had told Connie the whole story, from the bullies back at school to Marco's hopes that things would change...

 

Marco didn’t even have to say anything. Connie quickly realized that Marco had tears running down his face, and the smile immediately fell away.

 

“Shit, Marco, what happened?” he asked. Marco found his concern touching.

 

Still, he mumbled, “Can we not talk about it now?” and walked over to his bed, flopping on his back and staring up at the ceiling miserably.

 

“Yeah, no problem,” Connie said. After an awkward silence, he asked quietly, “You want a drink? I’ve got some beer and a bottle of vodka in my fridge.”

 

Marco felt further comforted by Connie’s efforts to cheer him up. “Thanks, Connie, but I’ll pass.”

 

There was another pause before Connie stood up. “I’ll be right back,” he said. Marco didn’t look up or say anything as Connie left the room.

 

He’d half-expected himself to start sobbing once left alone, but he didn’t. The heartbreak and humiliation had dulled into a sort of numbness inside him. He didn’t really feel much of anything.

 

He just sat there in his numb state until he heard the door swing open again. It felt like Connie had been gone a long time, yet also like he had just left.

 

“Shit, Marco, did you even move?” Connie asked.

 

Marco grunted in response.

 

“Anyway, here,” Connie said. Marco look up just as Connie tossed him a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, which he barely caught before it came crashing down on him. He was more prepared for it when Connie also tossed him a cheap plastic spoon.

 

“This is what girls do, right?” Connie asked, pulling his own pint out of a 7 Eleven bag. “Get ice cream and bitch about guys when they get their hearts broken? It’s gotta work for dudes, too, right?”

 

Marco sat up and slid off his bed, so he was sitting on the floor opposite Connie. “I don’t think girls actually do that,” Marco said as he popped the lid off of his container.

 

“Yeah, it’s probably just some dumb stereotype,” Connie admitted. “But hey. It’s still ice cream.”

 

Marco finally smiled at that. “Thanks, Connie.”

 

“No problem, man,” Connie said. “Now, tell me all about the jackass that broke your heart."


	3. I Don't Deserve It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin is really sweet and Levi is terrifying.

When Jean arrived at his dorm, his roommate, Armin, was lying on his stomach on the floor over a textbook with his head propped up on his arms.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked absentmindedly, not even looking up from the book as Jean closed the door behind him.

“I am the worst human being on the planet,” Jean announced as he threw himself facedown on the bed.

He had Armin’s full attention now. “What?”

Jean turned his face so he wouldn’t be mumbling into his pillow. “I just took a guy on a date and pretended to like him so that stupid fraternity would let me in. Okay? I’m a horrible, horrible person.”

Armin looked a little surprised, most likely because Jean hadn’t ever really talked to him. They’d gotten along fine, sure, but they certainly hadn’t become friends. Now, however, Jean was being an open book.

“Y-you took someone on a date for your pledge?” Armin repeated, trying to understand the situation.

“Yeah. This guy, like, the nicest fucking guy on the planet. The frat guys found out he was gay and made me take him on a date.”

“What happened?”

Jean sighed before telling Armin the whole story, all the way down to the tongue part. Armin listened intently, and his facial expression never once changed from the focused, nonjudgmental one he’d started with. He didn’t even glare at Jean when he got to the part where the frat guys came in. Or how upset Marco had looked. Or how he hadn’t said anything in his defense. Armin just listened, and right now, Jean was immensely grateful for that.

Once Jean finished his story, Armin thought it over a moment before speaking. “Why do you want to be in this fraternity?” he asked.

Jean was a little surprised that this was Armin’s question, but sat up and answered anyway. “My dad. He went to this university, and he was in this fraternity, and his whole friggin’ life, his goal was to have a son to follow in his footsteps. Go to this school. Join this fraternity. Get the same degree. Do the same fucking job. Meet a girl, start a family, have a son. Rise and repeat. And my dad thought he wasn’t going to get it, after my mom had three girls, but as luck would have it, I came along... Do you have any idea how much pressure I was under to follow his stupid plan?”

Armin shook his head.

Jean sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Whenever I did something right, did what I was supposed to, my father treated me like the fucking golden child. Got me whatever I wanted, told me how great I was, acted like an actual father... And, Jesus Christ, when I did something wrong... Got in trouble, got a bad grade... Even when I fucking broke up with a girl that he’d approved of, he would pretend I didn’t even exist for a week. Sometimes longer. My mom always tried to get him to stop, but he was so goddamn stubborn...”

Jean finally stopped himself. “Jesus, you probably don’t care about any of this, do you?”

“No, no, it’s fine, I don’t mind,” Armin said. “I mean, you can talk to me about whatever. I know we’re just roommates, but we can be friends, too, if you want.”

Jean nodded. “Thanks, man. You might as well get used to this, anyway. When I’m stressed about something, no one can get me to shut the fuck up. My friends back home hated me for it.”

Armin frowned. “They did?”

“Don’t worry about it, I hated them, too.”

“Then why were you friends with them?”

 _My stupid father._  “Take a wild guess.”

Armin nodded, and Jean knew that he really understood. It was... weird. And really nice. No one he had talked to had ever really even tried to understand the position he was in with his father. “Oh, just suck it up,” they’d say. Or, “He just wants what’s best for you,” or, “Life wouldn’t be so bad if you turned out like your dad. You should do what he says.” No one ever sympathized with him.

“I’m sorry about that, Jean,” Armin said.

For a moment, Jean wanted to accept what Armin had said. He’d wanted someone to say that to him his whole life. But right now... Right now, he didn’t deserve it.

“Armin, do not feel sorry for me,” Jean said. “I am the worst human being on the planet.”

“Jean, I know it was cruel, but it’s not really your fault-”

“It’s not? I could have at least stood up for the guy. Told them to stop calling him a fag. Done something. But no, my priority is getting into the fraternity. God, I’m so fucking selfish...”

“Jean-”

“Don’t, Armin,” Jean said, rubbing his eyes frustratedly. _I don’t care what anyone says_ , Jean thought to himself. _I am the worst person in the world because I made Marco Bodt cry._

Jean wasn’t left to wallow in his misery much longer, because there was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Armin immediately offered. Jean left his face in his hands, just listening as the door swung open.

“Hello?” Armin asked.

“Is Jean Kirschtein here?”

Jean immediately looked up. He couldn’t see who was there from where he was, so he stood up to see who was asking for him.

The guy at the door turned his glare from Armin to Jean once he was in view, and Jean immediately recognized who it was. Levi Rivaille, from the fraternity. _Fuck._

Levi was high up in the rankings, but he was a lot different than the other guys. He was colder, more serious, more aggressive. Jean had always steered clear of this guy, but apparently, Jean had done something wrong. Well, aside from making Marco Bodt cry.

“You,” Levi snapped. “We need to talk.”

Swallowing nervously, Jean passed Armin and stepped into the hall with Levi. Levi was a lot shorter than Jean, but a lot scarier, too. _I bet he’s killed a guy before._

“Listen, I’ve been in this fraternity a long time,” Levi said once they were alone, cutting right to the chase. “And I’ve seen the guys make pledgers do some pretty fucked up stuff. And my main problem with all this bullshit is that the fuckers running the fraternity always involve other people.”

 _Where is he going with this?_ Jean wondered. Whatever he had been expecting, this wasn’t it.

“So, as long as I’m here, I’m making you little shits right whatever wrongs the fuckers make you do. Other assholes have had to clean cars they egged or pay damages for buildings they graffitied. Shit like that. But this year has been different. This year, the missions have been all about some sort of public humiliation, and it’s made my job a little harder. But I’m still making you fucking do it. I heard about what happened with that Marco kid, and you have to go apologize to him.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. He didn’t think he was ever going to have to face Marco again. “W-what?”

“You fucking heard me. Don’t tell anyone else at the frat about it, but you have to apologize and make things right with that guy you humiliated.”

“But-”

“I don’t fucking care how hard that is for you,” Levi said. “If you don’t do it, I’ll make sure they don’t let you into the fraternity.”

Jean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He thought he was done. That this was all he had to do to get in. How the fuck was he going to apologize for this?

“You have one week,” Levi warned before turning and walking away.

_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I would like to formally point out that I know and have always known that Rivaille is not Levi's last name, but this was written before his actual last name came out in the manga, and I didn't feel like making something up. So. Rivaille.)


	4. Freckled Jesus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is a saint and Jean is really, really cold.

When Marco woke up that morning, he was actually feeling pretty okay. He had explained to Connie everything that had happened, and Connie turned out to be a great audience for a story. It made the retelling of the evening a little less painful. Connie gasped in all the right places. He'd grinned as Marco explained how well the date had gone. He even let out a small cheer when Marco got the part about the kiss. Then, when Marco got to the part where the fraternity boys turned up...

“ _THAT MOTHERFUCKER_ ,” Connie had yelled at the top of his lungs, jumping up to his feet and actually making Marco laugh. “ _Fuck_ , I can’t believe this asshole! How fucking could he? That _MOTHERFUCKER!_ ”

“Connie, keep your voice down, the RA is going to come yell at us,” Marco said through his laughter.

“Please tell me you punched that motherfucker in the face,” Connie said.

Marco sighed and shook his head. “Nope. I just walked away.”

“Seriously? You didn’t yell at him or anything?”

Marco shook his head again, feeling pretty pathetic about his reaction...

“Dude, that is so cool.”

Marco’s head snapped up. “Huh?”

“You kept your head after that motherfucker did that to you?” Connie asked in disbelief. “If that had happened to me... Fuck, I don’t even know what I’d do. But you, you kept cool? That is so fucking hardcore, man.”

Connie was a good friend.

Now it was Sunday, and Marco luckily had nothing to do except study, meaning he didn’t have to leave this dorm once today-

“Marco!” Connie said suddenly, roughly shaking Marco’s shoulder, not realizing he was already awake.

“Jeez, Connie, what is it?” Marco snapped, sitting up and shooting a sleepy glare at Connie.

“Sorry, man, but just... Look at this.”

Marco rubbed his eyes as he threw back the covers and got out of bed. Once he was on his feet, Connie gestured to the open door of their dorm, where a paper cup of takeout coffee was sitting.

"It's for you," Connie said. "There's something written on it."

_Huh?_

Marco walked over and picked it up, wondering why Connie couldn’t himself. There was a message scrawled in Sharpie, taking up the entire surface area of the cup.

_Marco,_

_Listen, I know I’m a fucking horrible human being. And I really want to apologize, but I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me. If you’re okay with it, I’ll be waiting on the bench outside your dorm for a few hours. If not, just enjoy the coffee. It’s one of those caramel mocha things you said were your favorite._

_Jean_

Marco read the message over and over a few times, not believing what he was seeing. Then he went to the window and peaked out. Sure enough, Jean was sitting on the bench across the street, typing away on his laptop. He looked up and glanced over his shoulder every now and then.

“Is he really there?” Connie asked, coming up to the window with Marco.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Want me to go beat him up?”

“No!” Marco said immediately.

“C’mon, I bet I could take that motherfucker.”

Marco shook his head. “Thanks, Connie, but I’ll handle this one.”

Connie paused, glaring at Jean through the window. "His hair's stupid."

Marco blushed, laughing nervously. _I thought it was cute..._

“Are you going to go talk to him?” Connie asked.

Marco didn’t answer. He didn’t know what he was going to do. Seeing Jean in the flesh (even if it was through the window) had made him feel a little sick, and the idea of talking to him was even worse. And yet... Jean wanted to apologize. He respected the fact that Marco might not want to see him. He had even remembered what Marco said was his favorite kind of coffee. _He paid attention during our date..._

“Look, I know it’s a nice gesture and everything,” Connie said, “but... Just be skeptical, Marco. You don’t know if this is fraternity prank part two.”

Marco froze. That thought hadn’t even occurred to him. The idea was terrifying... Going up to Jean, expecting an apology, and getting laughed at all over again...

“I’m not going to talk to him,” Marco said firmly, more to himself than to Connie.

“Whatever you think is best, man,” Connie said. “Well, I have plans with Sasha, so you’ve got the room to yourself for the day. Unless you want to join us?”

Marco smiled but shook his head, knowing that Connie was just being nice. He had never even met Sasha, and didn’t want to crash their plans. “Go ahead, I’ll be fine here.”

“Last chance to have me beat him up.”

“No, thank you.”

With that, Connie left, leaving Marco alone to watch Jean out the window. He kept throwing nervous glances around, waiting to see if Marco was going to show up. He didn’t look like he was planning anything. Then again, Marco had certainly been wrong before. He eventually decided to throw the coffee away without drinking it.

Marco cracked open his Econ textbook and managed to study for about an hour before his curiosity got the better of him. He checked out the window again. Jean, sure enough, was still there, and he’d picked a bad day to do this, as well. It was the first really cold day of the year, and the wind was picking up. Jean had zipped up his sweatshirt all the way and pulled his hood up over his head. Marco considered going to talk to him. After all, he was pretty certain that, if it really was a prank, the fraternity guys wouldn’t be willing to put up the cold for this long. But still, there was just enough doubt in his mind that Marco went back to his books.

Another hour passed, and Marco was back at the window, only to see it had started raining. Hard. Jean had put his laptop away, but was still sitting on the bench, clearly soaking wet and shaking. _Okay, this is ridiculous_ , Marco thought to himself as he pulled a pair of jeans and a jacket over his T-shirt and boxers. He grabbed an umbrella and, after shoving his feet into a pair of sneakers, left the safety of his dorm.

When he stepped out onto the street, his breath fogging up in front of him, he could see Jean a lot more clearly. Jean’s soaking hoodie was clinging to his skin, and he was shaking even worse than Marco had thought.

“Jean!” Marco called out.

Jean immediately looked up and saw Marco as he crossed the street to where Jean was sitting.

“You have an umbrella,” was the first thing Jean said, his eyes filled with hope. Once Marco was close enough, he tilted the umbrella forward so it covered Jean as well.

“You have something to say to me?” Marco asked.

Jean’s eyes went wide. “Right,” he said, clearing his throat. “Fuck, I don’t know how to say this... I’m really sorry. Like, I’m more fucking sorry than I’ve ever been for anything I’ve ever done in my whole goddamn life.”

Marco was a little taken aback by this. He’d expected some complicated explanation that was supposed to soften the blow. He hadn’t expected Jean to just be so vehemently sorry.

“I know I’m like the literal, actual worst person on the planet for what I did to you, and I don’t care if you forgive me. I wouldn’t. I would’ve punched me in the face. Like, fuck, man, I _wish_ you would punch me in the face so I wouldn’t have to feel as bad... But, whatever, my point is, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

Marco just stared. Jean was been one-hundred percent genuine right now. He didn’t know whether he should forgive Jean or not, but at least Jean meant what he was saying.

“Tell me what you’re sorry for.”

Jean blinked. “You want me to list everything?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, well, um... I’m sorry I asked you out in the first place when I’m not even gay. I’m sorry I pretended to like you. I mean, like you like that. I’m sorry I kissed you. I’m sorry the other guys were such dicks to you. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you. I... Is that everything?”

Marco nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

Jean hesitated. “So... Are you okay?”

“C’mon,” Marco said. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are.”

~~~

Jean’s eyes went wide as he stood up. “Wait, so you forgive me?”

“I know those frat guys can be jerks,” Marco said as they started to walk. “That’s why I dropped out. It’s not your fault they gave you a mission like that.”

“But it’s my fault for agreeing to do it,” Jean pointed out. “C’mon, man, you don’t have to be so nice to me. You can hate me as much as you want and I’ll totally deserve it.”

Marco glanced at Jean out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sure you have your reasons for doing it.”

“Yeah, I’m a selfish asshole that wants to get into a fraternity,” Jean grumbled.

“That’s not it. If that were true, you wouldn’t have apologized.”

Jean groaned. “Fuck, man, I’m not even doing this out of my own free will. Some other guy in the frat with a conscience made me apologize.”

“But you meant it.”

Jean glanced at Marco. “Yeah, so? Of course I meant it. I feel horrible.”

“I’ve met a lot of assholes over the years, Jean,” Marco said. “Believe me, they never apologize.”

Jean felt his face get hot and he turned his gaze down to his feet as they walked. _Please don’t tell me this guy used to get bullied. I don’t think I can handle anymore guilt._

The two walked in silence the rest of the way to Jean’s dorm. Jean ended up being the first to speak up once they arrived at his building. “Thanks for sharing your umbrella.”

“No problem,” Marco said with a nod.

“Seriously, you’re a saint,” Jean said. “You are the fucking nicest person I’ve ever met. Like, fucking Freckled Jesus or something.”

Marco’s eyes went wide when Jean said that, and for a moment, Jean was terrified he’d said something wrong. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, what did I do-_

Then Marco started to laugh. He doubled over, he was laughing so hard. He dropped the umbrella as he clutched his stomach, and the rain started to soak him, too.

“Are you all right, man?” Jean asked hesitantly.

“Sorry,” Marco gasped as he finally started to get a hold of himself. “I'm just... Sorry, that’s just the best nickname anyone’s ever given me.”

Jean smirked to himself. As much guilt as he felt, he was actually starting to kick himself for a different reason. Marco was _awesome_. If Jean hadn’t fucked everything up so much, he would’ve loved to have been friends with him.

“Well, Freckled Jesus,” Jean said, “I’ll see you around. Or not, I guess. You probably don’t want to see me around. But, y’know...”

“Do you want to hang out sometime?” Marco asked.

Jean blinked. “Wait, for real?”

“Yeah. I... I kind of want a redo. I mean, not for a date,” Marco quickly added, “but just get pizza or something.”

“Dude, are you kidding?” Jean said. “I would fucking love to. I mean, aside from the fact that I felt awful about what I was doing, I actually did have fun hanging out with you. You’re pretty cool, Bodt.”

Marco grinned. “Alright. Take a few hours to dry off and I’ll meet you at five.”

Jean grinned right back. “Awesome.”

With that, Jean turned and entered his building, completely amazed with what had just happened. Somehow, he’d gotten Marco to forgive him and even potentially be his friend. He was going to make things right with that guy, no matter what it took, and this… this seemed like a good start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much everyone who's been reading this and leaving kudos and stuff! You're all wonderful. And an especially big thank you to those leaving comments or sending me asks on my tumblr, you have no idea how much those motivate me to write. I love you all!


	5. It's The Freckles Isn't It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco gets a phone number and Connie gets some pizza.

_What the hell just happened?_

Marco just talked to the guy that had completely shattered his heart the night before. He had accepted his apology and forgiven him. He walked the guy back to his dorm. He made plans with the guy. To get pizza. In a couple of hours.

_What the actual fuck?_

And yet... Marco walked away from Jean’s dorm feeling pretty great. He was comforted by Jean’s genuine apology, but... that wasn’t it.

_“I actually did have fun hanging out with you.”_

Those had been Jean’s words. It hadn’t been all in Marco’s head. Even if the feelings weren’t as romantic as he’d hoped, Jean had enjoyed himself. He’d enjoyed Marco’s company. It wasn’t all made up. It was just that little bit of peace that had made Marco invite him for pizza on impulse. And weirdly, he found himself actually looking forward to it. Maybe he and Jean could actually be friends. Maybe-

“Hey, are you Marco Bodt?”

Marco whirled around to see another guy approaching him, under his own umbrella. He was short, with dark hair and steely gray eyes. _He’s kind of hot_ , Marco observed. _But also really, really intimidating._

“Yeah, I am,” Marco answered firmly, trying to hide the fact that he was afraid of him. “Why?”

“I’m just making sure Jean apologized,” the guy said. “He did, right?”

“Yeah, he did. We’re okay now.”

The guy raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you actually _forgave_ him?”

“Yeah, I did,” Marco said, wondering who this guy even was.

“Wow. I wouldn’t have. You’re either really nice or really stupid. Or both, I guess.”

Marco narrowed his eyes. “Who are you anyway?”

“My name’s Levi,” the guy said. “I’m in the fraternity. Don’t lump me in with all those other assholes, though. The only reason I stick around is to make sure they do as little damage as possible.”

Marco nodded. “Well, that’s nice. I guess. I’ll just, um-”

“Why’d you agree in the first place?” Levi asked. “I mean, why would a guy like you-” Levi stopped to look Marco up and down in a way that made him blush. “-go for a guy like Kirschtein?”

“I’m sorry?”

Levi chuckled. “Sorry. Not my business. Anyway, let me know if Jean gives you any trouble again. Or anyone from the fraternity, really. Shit, I should probably give you my number for that...”

“That’s okay,” Marco said immediately, feeling his face heat up even more. _He’s not asking you on a date_ , Marco reminded himself. _Calm the fuck down_.

“No, seriously, if any of them give you a hard time, I want you to give me a call,” Levi said, pulling a neatly printed business card out of a pocket in his fitted black coat. Marco took it with a mumbled, “Thank you,” before stuffing it in his back pocket.

“I’ll see you around, Marco,” Levi said, turning and walking away before Marco even had a chance to respond.

~~~

“You already got a fucking date?!”

Jean had met up with Marco as planned and they were currently waiting for their pizza to finish cooking; they had decided to get it to go so they could go hang out in Marco’s dorm for a while.

Marco had seemed a little surprised that Jean was willing to go hang out alone in Marco’s dorm. The boys back from his hometown must’ve given him a really bad time... Jean, of course, couldn’t care less that Marco was gay. What he did care about was how the fuck Marco had so much game.

Marco cringed and turned even redder than he already was. “I did not get a _date_. Levi just gave me his phone number.”

“So you’re going to plan a date?”

“No. He told me to call him if y- anyone from the fraternity gives me any trouble. That’s it.”

Jean was suspicious. Levi was good about making people right their wrongs, but did he _always_ reach out to the victims so much? Asking Marco to make sure Jean had actually done it, _that_ sounded like Levi. Giving out his phone number didn’t.

“C’mon, Marco, you’ve gotta be able to tell,” Jean said. “Was he giving you any vibes?”

Marco averted his eyes as his face turned as red as it could possibly be and Jean grinned.

“What?”

“I’m not saying.”

“What did he say, Marco?”

Marco hid his face in his hands. “Nothing he said, he just... looked.”

“What do you mean he looked? Like, he checked you out?”

“Maybe,” Marco mumbled, slouching further in his seat. For a tall guy, he sure seemed to like making himself small.

Jean laughed. “Now, was that so hard?”

Marco groaned.

“I gotta give you props, though, man,” Jean said. “You just bumped into a guy and walked away with his number without even trying.”

“That is _not_ why he gave me his number, he-”

“Especially Levi,” Jean continued as if Marco hadn’t said anything, “since he’s pretty much the scariest guy I’ve ever met. Like, teach me your tricks, man.”

Marco turned red all over again. “I don’t have any tricks,” he said. “It just kind of happened.”

“Is it the freckles? It’s the freckles, isn’t it?”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Marco insisted. “What do you need tricks for, anyway?”

Jean hesitated, but figured, _hey, Marco’s talking to me about a boy. Why would it be so weird if I talked to him about a girl?_ “When I got back to my room, my roommate had a friend over. Complete fucking idiot, hate the guy. Eren Jaeger or some shit like that. Anyway, his sister stopped by after a while, and holy shit, is she amazing. Her name is Mikasa, and oh, my God, she's gorgeous...”

Jean was afraid Marco would look upset or uncomfortable, but instead, he smiled encouragingly. “Yeah? Did you ask her out?”

“I... No,” Jean admitted. “I didn’t really say much at all to her.”

Marco’s smile faded a little. “What _did_ you say to her?”

Jean cleared his throat. “I said that her hair was pretty.”

Marco waited like he expected Jean to continue. “That’s it?” he asked after Jean didn’t.

“Yeah.”

“Jesus, maybe you do need help.”

“Hey, fuck off,” Jean said through his smirk. He was really pleased with how things seemed to be going. He’d expected this to be at least a little awkward, but Marco was wonderfully easy to be around.

~~~

After heading back to Marco’s dorm, they decided to put on a movie, casually talking through it as they ate their food. Marco was having such a nice time talking to Jean, he had almost completely forgotten about the fraternity incident.

That is, until Connie came back.

“Hey, Marco,” Connie said as he came in. “Do you want to-”

Connie froze when he saw the two of them, sitting on Marco’s bed.

“Is this who I think it is?” Connie asked.

“Connie, this is Jean,” Marco said awkwardly. “Jean, this is my roommate, Connie.”

Connie looked confused, to say the least. He couldn’t even get a sentence out.

“But you,” he said pointing at Marco.

“And the...” He pointed at the door, where they had found the cup of coffee.

“And he...” His finger moved to the window, where they had seen Jean on the bench.

“And then _you_...” His again pointed at Marco, most likely thinking about how Marco had said he wasn’t going to go talk to him.

Marco sighed. “I know.”

“Am I missing something?” Jean asked, looking almost as confused as Connie did.

“He knows,” Marco said, turning his attention to a piece of pizza rather than looking at either of them in the eye. “About the date.”

Marco saw out of the corner of his eye as Jean whipped his gaze up from Marco to Connie, his face growing red.

“So you two are... good now?” Connie said, clearly not understanding the situation.

“Yeah,” said Marco.

There was an awkward pause in which none of them knew what to say.

“Want some pizza?” Jean finally offered.

“Hell yes, I do,” Connie said immediately, all previous awkwardness set aside as he reached for the box and snagged a slice.

“Oh, by the way, man, those your posters?” Jean asked, gesturing to all of Connie’s weird band posters. Marco had never heard of a single one of those bands, but Connie seemed to take a lot of pride in them. “They’re awesome.”

Connie’s eyes went wide. “You know them?” he asked over a mouthful of pizza.

“Dude, they’re the _best_.”

Connie looked at Marco and gave him the faintest nod that seemed to say, _I forgive him, too._

Marco rolled his eyes as the two started talking about their favorite songs and albums, having no idea what either of them were talking about. And yet, he couldn’t help but smile to himself when the two started singing some guitar part, Connie going on some weird high harmony that was most likely unintentional.

_Dorks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, two chapters in one day *throws at you and runs away*
> 
> *whispers* I did it for the vine
> 
> From now on, chapters are going to be a bit longer because they're shorter than what I usually write and I don't like that much, and also so I can avoid chapters like this where not a whole lot happened.
> 
> You are all lovely and thank you for reading <3


	6. Might Sting A Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco gets a crush while Mikasa falls head over heels.

“How have you never seen _Space Jam_?” Jean asked incredulously.

Marco laughed to himself as the two climbed the stairs, on their way to Marco’s room on the fourth floor. “I don’t know, Jean, I’ve never even heard of it.”

Jean let out a horrified gasp. “Y-you’ve never _heard of it_?”

“I don’t understand, is it like, the best movie ever or something?” Marco asked somewhat sarcastically.

“No, Marco, it’s the worst,” Jean said gravely. “It’s so bad it’s amazing. I mean, it’s the _Loony Toons_ , and _Michael Jordan_.”

Marco looked over his shoulder at Jean, giving him a weird look. “What?”

“You just have to see it, man,” Jean said, shaking his head.

The two started down the hallway to Marco’s dorm as Jean continued. “You’ve at least heard the song, right?”

“There’s a song, too?”

“‘C’mon and slam, and welcome to the jam.’ You’ve heard that before, right?”

Marco frowned. “I don’t think so.”

“ _What is wrong with you, man_?” Jean snapped, making Marco laugh.

At the very beginning of their friendship, Jean had exhibited all of the typical signs of being very cautious around a person. He laughed politely at almost everything Marco said, and was really reserved in telling his own jokes. It was the way you acted a person you were afraid of upsetting. Yet now, only a week later, Jean seemed to be way more comfortable, more willing to tease and not censor himself. Funnily enough, Marco found that it was when Jean told him that he sucked or that something was wrong with him that he felt the most confident in their new friendship.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jean,” Marco said, grinning to himself. “I’ve just never-”

Marco froze once in view of his dorm room, stopping so abruptly that Jean ran into the back of him.

“Hey, what is it?” Jean asked. Marco didn’t answer, so Jean followed his gaze to the package left on Marco’s doorstep.

It was a standard red, heart-shaped box of chocolates. Someone had written in big, smeared letters across the lid,

_TO THE FAG_

_LOVE, JEAN_

Marco felt his face burning.

“Holy...” Jean breathed before turning frantically to Marco. “Dude, I did not send that, I didn’t... I _wouldn’t_ write that. ...Holy shit...”

“I know it wasn’t you,” Marco said quietly, still staring at the box. There was a pause before Marco added, “It was probably the boys at the fraternity, wasn’t it?”

Jean hesitated to respond. “Fuck. Marco, I am so sorry, I-”

“It’s not your fault, Jean.”

“But-”

“Do you mind if we cancel our plans?” Marco asked, still looking at the box and pointedly not at Jean. His throat was tightening and he wanted to get Jean out of here as soon as possible, before he started crying in front of him. Again. “I’m... not really in the mood anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Jean said immediately. “Sure thing, man. Um, call me if you change your mind, or if you want to talk, or-”

“Thanks, Jean,” Marco interrupted. He felt guilty about it, but he really needed Jean to leave. “I will.”

Jean nodded. “Okay. I’ll get rid of this for you,” he said, stepping forward and grabbing the box, which made Marco suddenly feel so grateful for Jean that his chest felt it would burst. He was extremely thankful that Jean walked past him just before a tear spilled from his eye.

“I’ll see you later,” Jean said as he left.

Marco listened to his footsteps as they grew softer and softer. He pulled his key from his pocket and opened his door slowly, silently praying that Connie wouldn’t be home.

Marco let out a heavy sigh at finding his room empty. As he stepped inside, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts with trembling fingers. He locked the door behind him as he found where he’d entered in Levi’s number. Taking a deep breath and wiping away another escaped tear, he called Levi.

Levi picked up on the third ring. “If it’s not important, hang up now.”

“Levi?”

“Marco?” Levi asked, and Marco felt his face heat up. They hadn’t spoken once since Levi had given him his number, and even that meeting had been short, yet Levi still was able to recognize Marco’s voice.

“Y-yeah, it’s me.”

“What did Jean do?”

“N-no, Jean didn’t do anything!” _Jesus, Marco, stop stuttering._

“So the rest of the fraternity then.”

Marco didn’t answer, and Levi took this as a yes.

“What’d they do?”

Marco opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. They had sent him a box of chocolates. That was it.

 _God, why didn’t I realize how stupid this sounds_ before _calling the hot guy?_

“Marco? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” Marco said quickly. “I just... Now that I’m calling you, it sounds stupid.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Marco sighed. “They... they left a box of chocolates outside my dorm. And they wrote ‘To the fag, Love, Jean,’ on it. But Jean wasn’t the one who sent it,” Marco added quickly.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright then,” Levi said. “What do you want me to do? Is it still there?”

“No, Jean got rid of it,” Marco said. “He was with me when I found it.”

“He was? You guys hang out now?”

“Yeah,” Marco mumbled, his face heating up again.

“You’re a _really_ forgiving person, huh?” Levi said, as though it were a bad thing. Which, in some cases, it really was.

“Shut up,” Marco muttered before smacking a hand over his mouth. _Did I really just tell someone who is equal parts hot and terrifying to shut up? What is wrong with me?_

To Marco’s relief, Levi merely chuckled. “Hey, you called me. And speaking of which, do you have any ideas?”

“I-ideas for what?” Marco asked. _Ideas about you? I have a lot of those..._

“Revenge.” _Oh._ “I mean, you do want to get back at these guys, right?”

“I... I don’t know. I mean, all they did was send a box of chocolates...”

“Yeah, but it obviously upset you, because you called me. So they deserve to be punished.”

 _That sounds way sexier than it should_ , Marco thought painfully. Though, it was mostly just the way Levi had said it, the way he’d put subtle emphasis on the word “punish”.

Marco swallowed. “What kind of revenge?”

“I am _so_ glad you asked, Marco,” Levi said, mischief plain in his voice, attracting Marco even more. “I have a perfect idea.”

“What is it?”

“Meet me for coffee in exactly one hour. Don’t be late, or I’ll leave.”

“Coffee?” Marco asked. “Why-”

“No questions,” Levi ordered. “Just trust me. Will you meet me?”

Marco hesitated, but answered with a firm, “Yes.”

“Alright then. See you in an hour, Marco.” He hung up without waiting for Marco to respond.

Marco stared at his cell phone. His problem wasn’t solved, and he wasn’t sure if it was going to be... But he did feel a little better, and he was meeting Levi for coffee. And revenge. That’s...

_Hot. You think it’s hot, Marco._

Marco bit his lip and begged the universe for Levi to be at least bisexual.

~~~

Jean realized after picking up the box of chocolates that it was empty. And that the guys from the fraternity had drawn dicks all over the bottom of it. He slammed it into the first trashcan he saw.

_This is all your fault, Jean._

Jean tried desperately to shut up the voice in his head that kept repeating this. It couldn’t all be his fault, could it? The guys at the fraternity, they were the ones being jerks.

_But you never stood up to them, did you?_

Jean didn’t have a choice; he had to get into this fraternity.

_Selfish._

But it was all his dad’s plan. His dad was the one who pressured him into every decision he’d made in his life. His dad was the one who made Jean feel like shit every time he’d gone against his father’s wishes. His dad was the one forcing Jean to associate with these awful people.

_You don’t stand up to him, either. You hate your father and yet everything you do is to please him. You’re pathetic._

_Pathetic, Jean._

“I fucking hate myself sometimes,” Jean muttered under his breath, his words lost in the cold October breeze as he walked back to his own dorm.

“Shit!”

Jean looked up and was the only witness as someone ran into and tripped spectacularly over a bench. They practically front flipped as they fell over it before audibly smacking into the pavement.

_Was that...?_

No.

It couldn’t be.

“Mikasa?” Jean called out in disbelief.

Mikasa immediately got up from where she’d crumpled to the ground. “Shit.”

Jean quickly walked over to her and helped her up. “Jesus, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” she grumbled, brushing dirt off of her jacket. Jean could see her hands were all skinned up, and there was a bloodstain forming on her jeans just above her knee. “You’re Armin’s roommate, right? John?”

 _She almost remembered my name._ His heart fluttered. “Jean,” he corrected happily.

Mikasa nodded. “Okay, Jean. If you tell anyone about this, I will rip off one of your arms. Okay?”

The swell of hope in Jean’s chest from Mikasa almost remembering his name quickly deflated. “Got it.”

Mikasa quickly turned away from him and started to walk away, but her bleeding leg quickly gave out under her weight as she tried to walk.

Jean quickly stepped forward and caught her as she swore under her breath. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mikasa said, now sounding less certain. “Nothing’s broken, it just hurts like a bitch.”

“You want me to walk you back to your dorm?” Jean offered.

Mikasa sighed bitterly before mumbling a reluctant, “Fine.”

Mikasa kept an arm around Jean, leaning heavily against him as she limped across campus.

“So,” Jean said, clearing his throat, “how’d that happen anyway?”

“I was reading a text,” Mikasa admitted, looking down at the ground and resolutely not at Jean. Jean couldn’t help but smirk.

“Something important?”

“I wish.”

“From a boyfriend?” _Please say no, please say no, please say-_

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” Mikasa said. _Score one for Jean._ “It was from my roommate.”

“Oh, yeah? Um, you two get along?” Jean asked, hoping to keep the conversation going, because it seemed to be going really, really well.

“Yeah, we do,” she said, fairly disinterested. “And Armin tells me you two are friends now.”

“Yeah, we are,” Jean said. “Guy’s pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah, Armin’s the best,” she said. _Oh, shit. Does she like Armin? Is she into short, cutesy guys? I can’t fit that bill! I’m fucked._

“Mm,” Jean said noncommittally. Then he racked his brain for ideas of what to say next. _Shit. It was going so well. Shit, shit, shit. Maybe she’ll say something. Please, Mikasa, just say something. Anything._

“Armin told me about you and that guy, Marco.”

_Anything but that._

Jean felt his face heat up. “Yeah? W-what exactly did he say?”

“You took him on a fake date and got him humiliated by a bunch of frat boys,” she said dully. “And now you apologized and you two are friends.”

“Oh, so everything.”

“Just so you know, I agree with Armin,” she said. “It’s the frat guys’ fault.”

Jean scoffed. “I’m not gonna hide behind some shitty they-made-me-do-it excuse. I’m the one joining the fraternity, so it’s just as much my fault as theirs.”

“Why do you want to join that fraternity in the first place?” she asked. “They sound so obnoxious.”

 _At least Armin left out the part about my father_ , Jean thought to himself. “Um... Personal reasons.”

Mikasa nodded, not pressing the topic any further. Jean was grateful.

Shortly after, they arrived at Mikasa’s dorm. Unfortunately...

“Oh, the elevator is broken,” Mikasa said as Jean reached for the button.

Jean raised an eyebrow. “How did you intend to walk up the stairs?”

Mikasa stared at him for a moment. “I don’t know.”

Jean grinned. “You always act so cool, but you’re just as human as the rest of us, huh?”

Mikasa scowled. “Hey. I’m strong. Stronger than-”

Jean reached forward and, keeping one arm on her back and swiftly scooping the other under her knee to catch her, he picked her up like a fucking princess.

“W-what are you doing?” she stuttered, her face going bright red. Jean felt his chest swell again, pleased to have gotten that reaction.

“What’s it look like?” he asked. “I’m carrying you up.”

“If you drop me, I swear-”

“I’m not gonna drop you,” Jean said, rolling his eyes. “I think you’ve caused enough harm to yourself.”

Mikasa punched his shoulder and Jean laughed to cover up the fact that it actually _really_ fucking hurt.

A few flights of stairs later, and Mikasa was back on her feet, limping with Jean’s assistance to her room. He didn’t let go of her until she was seated comfortably on her bed.

“Looks like your roommate’s not here,” Jean observed. _Why would you point out that you’re alone? What do you expect her to do? Throw herself at you?_

_Jeez, I really wish she would throw herself at me._

“No, Annie’s out with Reiner and Bertholdt,” Mikasa explained as she looked over her raw hands.

Reiner and Bertholdt? Those names rang a bell, but it took Jean a minute to remember why. They had been pledging for the fraternity, too, until they dropped out like Marco had.

“I know those guys,” Jean said.

“Oh, yeah?” Mikasa asked. “Cute couple, huh?”

Jean froze. _Oh. So that’s why they dropped out like Marco had._

“U-um, yeah. They, uh-”

“You didn’t know they were dating, did you?”

“Not a clue.”

Mikasa actually smirked, the first facial expression she’d made all evening, and that’s when Jean finally noticed that Mikasa had a cut on her cheek. There was even a thin train of blood running from it, previously obscured by her hair.

“You’re bleeding,” Jean blurted, staring at the cut. Mikasa lifted a finger to her face and pulled it away to see blood on her fingertips.

“Oh.”

“Here, let me help you-”

“Jean, you don’t have to,” Mikasa said.

“I insist,” Jean said with a smile. When Mikasa didn’t object a second time, Jean went to the small en suite bathroom and went looking for a wash cloth, which he dampened with warm water once he found one. He then searched for a first aid kit and found a little one under the sink.

He came back and sat down next to Mikasa, on the edge of her bed.

“Alright, this might sting a little,” Jean warned before pressing the cloth to her cheek. She barely flinched initially, but when Jean started to dab at her cut, she sucked in air through her teeth.

“Sorry,” Jean apologized.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, looking at him for a moment before turning her gaze elsewhere.

Jean was forced to lean in close to make sure he’d cleaned it up properly, and was relieved when Mikasa didn’t back away from him.

Jean next pulled the disinfectant from the first aid kit. “Okay, this might sting a lot.”

And sure enough, as he started dabbing it onto her skin, she started cursing under her breath, her fingers digging into surface of the bed. Jean wished she would move her hand a measly inch to the left onto his thigh.

“Just a band-aid now,” Jean said, putting the lid back on the disinfectant and storing it back in the kit. The band-aids were all the same, standard beige, so Jean just picked one at random and carefully smoothed it over the cut.

“There you go.”

“Thank you,” Mikasa said politely.

Jean smiled. “Anytime.”

_I can’t fucking wait to tell Marco about this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I hope you guys know that every single comment and kudos and bookmark makes me giggle like a frickin nerd)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter ^_^
> 
> (Also did you like the joke in the chapter summary? I felt a little too proud of myself for that one. That's probably why I write angst/fluff instead of comedy.)


	7. Your Toothbrush, Marco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco gets his revenge and Levi gets some poorly made tea.

“You’re early,” Levi said as he sat down across from Marco at the campus’s best coffee shop.

The place was called Sawney and Bean’s, and it was one of Marco’s favorite places. Stepping inside, you were immediately hit in the face with the heavenly scent of coffee and vanilla mixed with baking goods. Specifically, the bread. It was practically a rule that, if you had never been to Sawney and Bean’s before, you had to go in, order your favorite drink, and get one of their signature mini-baguettes (known affectionately as “Baby Baguettes” by anyone who wasn’t too manly to call them that). Marco remembered the first time he had ordered a caramel mocha; he hadn’t believed Connie when he told him he’d never be able to enjoy Starbucks again, but he was quickly proven wrong. And the Baby Baguettes were the best bread you’d ever eat, always baked to perfection with a crusty outside and soft inside that was always warm. If you got your baguette and it was cold in the middle, they would give you a new one, on the house.

The atmosphere was pretty great, too. The walls were completely covered in Polaroids and pictures pinned up by students over the years, and the pictures probably ran a few layers deep, considering how many there were. There were so many strings of bright white fairy lights running all over the place that the shop didn’t need any overhead lighting. Though it looked nothing like Marco’s actual home, he couldn’t help but feel a warm, homey vibe from the place. He was in love with it.

And seeing Levi in it... It wasn’t a date. Marco kept reminding himself forcefully that _it was not a date_. But _God_ , did he want it to be. He couldn’t help but imagine some happy future, after it had started snowing, when Levi would blow in, his nose red from the cold, and they would decide to share one of the fluffy armchairs instead of sitting at a real table. They would warm each other up, and share sips of each other’s coffee, and occasionally Marco would steal a kiss, and not care who saw...

_Snap out of it, Marco._

_What did he say again? That I was early?_ “You told me not to be late,” Marco said in response, hoping that Levi hadn’t been reading his mind before. Or if he had been, that he liked the idea, too...

Levi raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing to be early. Anyway, are you okay?”

Something fluttered in Marco’s chest at Levi’s concern. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Ready for revenge?”

“What’s your plan?”

“My plan is not going to work if you’re not ready.”

Marco sighed. “Yes, I’m ready.”

“Perfect. Now, the important thing to know is this: What’s the one thing these assholes from the fraternity are more afraid of than gays?”

Marco blinked. “Um, I don’t know.”

Levi paused for effect before saying, “Me.” The grin on his face was delicious.

“Y-you?” Marco asked, his face going hot again. _Get it together, Marco..._

Their conversation was interrupted when a barista came over with a steaming mug for Levi.

“Your usual,” the man said as he set it down in front of Levi. _Oh my God, is he handsome, Marco thought_ , feeling himself start to blush. He was really tall and broad, with blond hair and blue eyes and striking features.

Levi seemed less than impressed. “You didn’t fuck it up this time, did you?”

The man grinned confidently. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

 _Oh, no, are they flirting?_ Marco wondered, starting to panic. _Is Levi even into guys?_

Levi turned back to Marco. “Marco, this is Erwin. The worst barista in this place, but also happens to be a friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Marco,” Erwin said, extending a hand. _Wow, he has big hands,_ Marco thought as he shook it, hoping his blush wasn’t as bad as he thought it was.

“This is the one I was telling you about,” Levi said to Erwin with a nod at Marco. He sipped casually at his mug, which he held in a really weird but surprisingly elegant way, with his hand over the top of the mug instead of cupping around the side. He looked very calm and cool, unlike Marco, who was definitely blushing furiously now if he hadn’t been before.

“Oh, that’s right,” Erwin said. “Sorry to hear about that. The guys at Sigma Nu Kappa have always been like that.”

“S’fine,” Marco mumbled, hiding his face in his caramel mocha.

“You did fuck this up,” Levi grumbled, staring down at his drink. “You used soy milk.”

“I thought that’s how you took it,” Erwin said, arching one impressive eyebrow.

“I took it with soy milk for like, a month,” Levi snapped. “Last year.”

“Excuse me, your highness,” Erwin said sarcastically, a good-natured smile on his lips. “Shall I make you a new one?”

“Don’t bother,” Levi said. “Unless Petra’s working tonight?”

“No, she’s out with her boyfriend,” Erwin said. “It’s just me, Hanji, and Mike tonight.”

“Tch. She’s the only one that does it right,” Levi grumbled. “I’ll just keep this tea, we won’t be here long anyway.”

 _We won’t?_ Marco wondered. _Did I do something wrong?_

“Alright then,” said Erwin. “Nice meeting you, Marco.”

“You too,” Marco said quickly before Erwin turned and walked away.

“You should meet this boyfriend of Petra,” Levi grumbled once he was gone. “Oluo or some shit like that. He’s worth a laugh anyway. No idea what she sees in him; she’s lightyears out of his league.”

_Oh, no. He likes girls, doesn’t he? Well, we had a nice run, Marco. Should’ve seen this coming..._

“Now, where were we?” Levi asked.

“The guys at the fraternity are afraid of you,” Marco said, trying desperately to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“Right. They know I’m bi,” Levi began, and Marco prayed that Levi didn’t notice him immediately sit up eagerly in his chair, “but they can’t do anything to me because they know I would literally and actually murder them if they treated me like they’re treating you. And the same treatment extends to anyone I date, flirt with, bring back to the fraternity, you name it. They’re untouchable. So the plan is simple: I’ll bring you back to the fraternity with me.”

While Marco had been floating on Levi saying he was bisexual for a moment, he instantly came crashing down with a wave of sickening nerves. “No, no, no, Levi, I can’t, _Jesus_ , I-”

“Hey,” Levi said firmly, putting his hand on Marco’s. Marco’s mind immediately went blank. “Relax. Listen.”

Marco nodded.

“I know you don’t want to see those guys. But you’ve got to trust me, Marco. They’re gonna recognize you for sure, and if they see me taking you to my room, they are going to _shit themselves_ , thinking that they fucked with my boyfriend. You get to scare the living shit out of them, savor the looks on their faces, all that stuff. And then, from that point on, they won’t dare do or say anything to you. Two birds with one stone.”

Marco stared at Levi. “Y-you would do that for me?”

“It’s no big deal,” Levi said with a shrug. “You just gotta be willing to crash in my room for the night, because it’ll ruin it if they see you leave too soon. And it will make it all the better if they see you leave in the morning.”

“But-”

“Marco, you literally don’t have to do anything,” Levi said. “I’ll do the talking, just _seeing_ you will be enough, and then we’ll just hang out for a while and you’ll sleep in my room. That’s my offer.”

Marco hesitated.

“You’re perfectly welcome to reject it. But I offered my help, and this is it. Take it or leave it.”

“I-I’ll do it,” Marco blurted before he could stop himself. _Oh, God, what am I getting myself into?_

Levi smirked and that alone made Marco suddenly feel a thousand times better about his decision. “Perfect. Let’s go.”

Marco practically choked. “Wait, right _now_?”

“Why wait?” Levi shrugged as he stood up. “Make sure those fuckers don’t have a chance to pull anything else.”

“B-but I...” _God, I didn’t any time to mentally prepare for this. What do I say?_ “I don’t have a toothbrush.” _Toothbrush. Your_ toothbrush _, Marco._ _You are such a loser_.

“I have extras back at my place,” Levi said, immediately dismissing the idea.

“W-what about pajamas?”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “You can’t just take off your jeans?” _Oh, God, nothing’s working._

Marco suddenly felt sick with nerves, but didn’t want to back out now. “Y-yeah, fine. Sorry. Let’s go.”

Neither of them spoke as they trekked across campus to the frat house. Marco was too busy focusing on trying to calm himself down. He was sweating, his heart was pounding, and his stomach felt like it was about to explode. It’ll be okay, he tried to tell himself. _You have Levi. Levi’s not going to let anything bad happen._

It wasn’t until they were in view of the house that Marco froze.

“Hm?” Levi hummed, giving Marco a look over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

 _What if he’s in on it?_ Marco wondered frantically. _What if he’s pulling something on me right now? What if I’m being humiliated all over again?_

“Marco,” Levi snapped when he didn’t answer, stepping closer and pulling Marco’s hands into his own. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Y-you’re,” Marco stammered, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not...?”

“What is it?”

“This isn’t another prank, is it?” Marco squeaked out. His eyes were starting to water, and he blinked rapidly to try and clear them.

_Get a grip, Marco. Stop being so pathetic._

Levi glared at Marco. “You honestly think I would do that?” he asked in a hard voice, and Marco’s heart practically stopped out of pure terror. _Jesus, no wonder everyone is afraid of him._ For a moment, Marco genuinely thought that Levi was going to murder him.

Then Levi sighed and his face softened. “What can I do to convince you that it’s not?”

Marco swallowed. “I-I don’t know.”

“Marco, I swear to you, that is not what I’m doing. If you don’t believe me, you’re more than welcome to turn around and leave, but I promise, I’m just trying to help.”

Marco hesitated, but whispered a soft, “Okay.” _Jesus, Marco, you’re too trusting. Something’s going to happen. When will you ever learn? Oh, God..._

Levi nodded, and they headed for the house again.

Once they got to the doorstep, Levi stopped and looked at Marco. “Hey, you need to relax.”

“Huh?” Marco dropped his shoulders, not even realizing he’d had them tensed up.

“Marco, the idea is that I’m bringing you back here to fuck. You have to look like that’s what we’re doing.”

Marco just stared at Levi, unsure what to do.

“For fuck’s sake,” Levi grumbled. He then cupped a hand behind Marco’s head and pulled him harshly down to Levi’s level, their lips coming together roughly.

 _Jesus, is this really happening?_ Levi’s grip on Marco was so tight, he didn’t think he could break it if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to, no, not at all. This was probably the best kiss he’d had in his entire life (out of only three, but still).

It was short lived, but when Levi pulled away, Marco found himself short of breath. His face was flushed and his eyelids were heavy from the daze he’d gone into.

Levi smirked. “That’s more like it. C’mon.”

Levi opened the door before grabbing Marco’s hand and pulling him in.

Marco’s sweet stupor quickly dissolved when he saw the frat boys. They were all piled onto an old couch, some spilling onto the adjacent armchairs, and were shouting over a game of Call of Duty.

“You _cocksucker!_ ” one yelled at the screen as Levi closed the door behind him.

“You called?” Levi asked.

They all froze and snapped their attention to the door, one of them having the sense to pause the game.

“L-Levi,” another stammered. The fear was obvious on all of their faces, and it was really... _satisfying_.

“This place is disgusting,” Levi snapped, gesturing to the empty beer bottles that littered every available surface (and “available” meant not covered by a half-empty pizza box).

“We’ll clean it up!” All the other boys violently nodded in agreement.

“Tch. Anyway, we’re heading upstairs.” Levi took Marco’s hand and started leading him toward the staircase, and Marco realized that the boys hadn’t even taken notice of him until now. But now that they had...

Once made a choking noise. Another punched his friend in surprise. There was a hissed, “ _fuck_ ,” and one boy asked quietly, “Is that...?”

Levi immediately snapped his attention back to the boys, and they all immediately straightened up. “What was that?”

“N-nothing!” several squeaked nervously.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Might want to turn up the volume on that game. Unless you get off to sound of two guys fucking. I don’t really care.”

And with that, Marco and Levi headed upstairs.

Once at the top of the stairs, Levi put a hand against Marco’s chest to stop him. He pressed a finger against his lips and jerked his head downstairs, and Marco listened.

“Dude. That was him.”

“It couldn’t be.”

“Are you blind? That was totally fucking him.”

“Why’s he with Levi?”

“To _fuck_ , you idiot.”

“Well, no shit, I got that, but... What does this mean?”

“It means we’re fucking dead.”

“But they weren’t together when we did the first prank!”

“You think Levi’s gonna care?”

“Guys, I... I did something today.”

“What did you do?”

“I sent that kid an empty box of chocolates.”

“ _Why_?”

“...And I wrote that he was a fag on it.”

“You dipshit, Levi is going to slaughter us.”

“I-I wrote that it was from Jean!”

“Already throwing the new kid under the bus? You asshole.”

“Dude, it doesn’t matter if it’s from Jean - he’s with us now. We’re all dead.”

“Guys, can we turn the game back on? I would rather spend my last few hours alive playing X-Box than listening to them fuck.”

And their worries were drowned out by the loud sound of fake gunfire.

Levi led Marco down the hall and pushed him into the second door on the right. The room was... well, there wasn’t any other word for it. It was immaculate. It didn’t even feel like someone was living in there, from the harsh sterile-ness of it all and the lack of any personal decor. It somehow suited Levi very well.

“Was it everything I promised?” Levi asked as he closed the door behind them.

Marco didn’t know what to say. He decided to instead throw his arms around Levi in a hug.

Levi immediately tensed up, and Marco let go. “Uh, sorry, I... um...”

“It’s fine,” Levi said. “I take it you’re happy though?”

“Really happy,” Marco said with a smile.

“I’m glad,” Levi said, stripping off his jacket and hanging it neatly in his closet. “So, you’re okay with that whole kiss thing, right?”

Marco felt his face go red. He’d almost forgotten about that. “W-what do you mean?”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “I mean, you’re okay that I kissed you without permission just to turn you on for thirty seconds while I brought you in here?”

“Oh. Um, y-yeah. I’m, I mean, that’s okay. I’m okay. I mean-”

“Marco. Relax.”

“Sorry.”

Levi smirked. “I’m just glad it worked, to be honest. It’s been a while since I was with a guy...”

“How long?” Marco asked, wondering how personal Levi was willing to get.

“Three months.”

Marco gawked. “Three months? That’s all?”

“Why, how long has it been for you?”

Marco looked at the ground, refusing to look Levi in the eye. “Not since my sophomore year of high school.”

“You’re joking,” Levi deadpanned. Then Marco didn’t respond and Levi gasped. “Holy shit, you’re not.”

Marco buried his face in his hands.

“You haven’t dated anyone in, what, three years?”

“W-we didn’t even really date,” Marco admitted. “We went out once and we kissed once. That was it.”

“Holy shit.”

Marco finally peeked through his fingers at Levi.

“Um, Levi?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do you look happy?”

The smirk (which seemed to be Levi’s equivalent of a huge grin) immediately fell off of Levi’s face. “I’m sorry. That’s just the most precious thing I’ve ever heard.”

Marco groaned. “It’s pathetic.”

“So that’s why...” Levi mumbled with chuckle.

“Huh?”

“After Jean apologized,” Levi explained, “when we met. I asked you why you went out with Jean in the first place. Now I understand: you’re desperate.”

Marco’s jaw dropped in horror. “I’m not _desperate_.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed, Marco. Happens to the best of us, going after someone way under our league just to get a little.”

Marco was about to defend himself again when he realized what Levi had said. “Way... under my league?”

Levi raised an amused eyebrow. “What, you think _Kirschtein_ is up to your level?”

I have a level? “I-I thought he was cute,” Marco mumbled.

Levi hummed. “I mean, I guess, if you’re into that sort of thing. I’m not. I’m much more interested in someone like you.”

Marco’s face burned with how hard he was blushing. “W-what?”

“I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable,” Levi said. “I’m just being honest.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” Marco blurted out.

Levi smirked. “What, interested in someone in your league this time?”

 _I’m in the same league as someone like that?_ Marco wondered, his eyes involuntarily wandering down Levi’s body.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Levi said, closing the space between them with a few loping strides and pulling Marco down into another kiss. This one started off slow, and Marco settled his hands on Levi’s waist as he leaned into it. _God, this one’s even better than the last one..._

Just as Levi started to deepen the kiss, Marco’s phone started ringing, just loud enough that it was impossible to ignore. Marco pulled away with a groan and saw Jean’s name on the caller ID.

“Go ahead and answer it,” Levi said stepping away from Marco and sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Really?”

“Yeah, take your time. We have all night,” he said suggestively. “Remember?”

_Oh, my God._

Marco quickly answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Marco? Dude, you will never guess what happened-”

“Um, Jean, can I call you back?” Marco asked sheepishly. “I’m kind of... in the middle of something.”

“Oh. Um, yeah, sure thing, man. What are you doing?”

“I’m... I’m, ah-”

The phone was suddenly snatched out of Marco’s hands, Levi grabbing it and pressing it against his own ear. “Kirschtein, I swear to fuck, if you cock-block any longer, I’m kicking you out of the fraternity.”

“ _Levi_?” Marco could hear Jean squeak.

“He’ll call you tomorrow,” Levi said before hanging up the phone and handing it back over.

“I thought you said ‘take your time,’” Marco mumbled. _What the hell must Jean be thinking?_

“I changed my mind,” Levi said simply before slipping his hands under Marco’s shirt. Marco felt like his face was on fire, with how much he was blushing, but God, did he like the way Levi’s hands felt on his skin...

Levi stretched up to start kissing Marco’s neck. _Oh, fuck, I think I forgive him..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …*whispers* what did you guys think?
> 
> If there was ever a chapter I wanted feedback on, it's this one.
> 
> But whatever, I'm grateful that people are reading this and enjoying it. You're all lovely and deserve a Baby Baguette.


	8. All Heterosexual-ness In Tact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco pardons Jean's French but Levi does not.

“ _Armin, cover me!_ ”

“I can’t, I’m stuck!”

“Connie, go find where Armin is so someone can _fucking cover me!_ ”

“Oh, hey, I see him! Wait, _Armin, turn around, there’s someone behind you!_ ”

“Where- oh, darn.”

“Don’t tell me he’s dead.”

“He’s dead.”

“ _Armin_ -”

Just then there was a knock at the door, and Armin immediately offered to get it, leaving Jean and Connie to yell at the TV screen, frantically pressing buttons on their game controllers. He wasn’t any good at first-person shooters, anyway.

“Okay, _Connie. Cover me!_ ” Jean shouted. He just needed to get past this one area to complete the mission, but that wasn’t going to happen if someone didn’t just _fucking cover him_ for like, ten seconds.

“Got you covered!” Connie shouted back. “I’m right behind you!”

Jean got his character in position, a straight shot toward his target, and started to sprint-

“Oh, hey, Marco,” Armin said.

Jean felt his face turn bright red. “Marco?” he repeated, immediately looking up at the door instead of at the game.

“ _Jean, Jesus Christ, keep running!_ ”

“Hey,” Marco said sheepishly as he stepped into Jean and Armin’s dorm.

“Jean, I’m gonna- Okay, that’s it. I’m dead. You’re on your own.”

Jean was just staring at Marco, having no idea what to say. Marco, slowly growing redder and redder, stared back, because he knew exactly why:  

_“Kirschtein, I swear to fuck, if you cock-block any longer, I’m kicking you out of the fraternity.”_

How the hell was Jean supposed to respond to _that_?

“Jean, you just got shot,” Connie deadpanned, the only one paying attention to the game anymore.

“So,” Jean said, clearing his throat and still ignoring Connie. “What exactly did you get up to last night?”

Marco immediately buried his face in his hands. “How much did you tell them?”

“All I said was that you were with some guy,” Jean said.

“He wouldn’t even fucking say who!” Connie snapped. “C’mon, Marco, you can tell me, right?”

Armin was sat on his bed, staring resolutely at the floor, clearly not wanting to get involved (but also definitely listening to the conversation).

Marco looked up from his hands. “H-his name is Levi.”

Levi. Of all the people for Marco to hook up with, _Levi_?

Not that Jean should have been particularly surprised. Though Marco had insisted that Levi was giving him his number just to be helpful, Jean had suspected other motives from the very beginning. And it certainly wasn’t a stretch that anyone could be into Marco. Jean could say, with all heterosexual-ness in tact, that Marco was a good looking guy. Tall, broad shouldered, muscular, with tan skin and big brown eyes and all those goddamn freckles. If you were into guys at all, odds were that you would be into Marco.

And it wasn’t a stretch that Marco would think Levi was attractive. Sure, he was short, but he had that whole brooding, bad-boy vibe going. Maybe Marco was into that. _Though, that doesn’t explain why he was initially into me_ , Jean thought to himself. Jean was fair. Jean was angular. Jean was lanky. There was nothing dark or mysterious about his appearance at all. Maybe Marco had seen his haircut and thought it was punk, but even that was a sketchy theory.

Still, even with aesthetic appeal and a possible bad boy complex on Marco’s part, the relationship was weird. Marco was the biggest softie in the world. He was timid. He was easily embarrassed. And Levi was intimidating as fuck. Someone like Levi could walk all over Marco...

And that was what was bothering Jean the most.

“So what, are you guys dating now?” Connie asked, and Jean snapped back into their conversation.

“I-I’m not sure,” Marco admitted, sitting down on Jean’s bed. “I mean, I... Wait a second, why are you here? I got back to our dorm and your note just said ‘I’m at Jean and Armin’s, see you later.’”

“Believe it or not, Jean invited me,” Connie said in mock surprise, though his smile gave away that he meant in a good-natured way. “I texted him last night because you never came home and I thought you got murdered or something, but he told me you were out and invited me to hang out with him and Armin.”

“Oh,” Marco said, turning to look at Jean. “That was nice.”

Jean scoffed. “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

Marco smiled. “Sorry,” he said. “Hey, does anyone want coffee? I’m dying.”

“You’re buying?” Connie asked, his eyes going bright with hope.

“N-no,” Marco said, immediately correcting himself. “Dying. Like, I need caffeine.”

“Oh,” Connie said, his shoulders dropping. It was poor form to get a college kid excited about free food. “Never mind.”

“Sorry,” Marco mumbled.

“What do you need caffeine so bad for? Up all night?” Jean asked suggestively, smirking as Marco went bright red again.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, not even able to deny it. Wow.

“I’ll go,” Jean said with a chuckle as he got up off the floor. “We were up pretty late ourselves-”

There was suddenly a loud knock on the door. “ _JEAN KIRSCHTEIN, GET OUT HERE, GODDAMNIT!_ ”

“Ymir,” Jean and Armin whispered in unison, looking at each other in terror.

“Who’s Ymir?” Marco asked.

“Our neighbor,” Armin responded gravely.

“You get it,” Jean said.

Armin’s eyes went wide. “I’m not getting it! She yelled for you!”

“If I get it, she’ll kill me!”

“She won’t literally kill you!”

“Of course she will, Armin, she’s-”

Ymir banged her fist on the door again. “ _JEAN, I CAN FUCKING HEAR YOU, OPEN THE DOOR!_ ”

Jean sighed. “It was nice knowing you guys.”

He opened the door to find a highly disgruntled Ymir standing there, her hair stuck up in some messy ponytail and her glaring eyes smudged with day old make-up.

“H-hey, Ymir,” he said.

“You _fuckers_ ,” she snapped. “You were up screaming at your stupid game until _four in the morning_.”

Jean gulped. _Had it really been that late?_

“What the fuck were you guys even playing?” she snapped.

“Four in the morning?” Connie repeated, and everyone’s attention turn to him. “Hm. We played Halo for a few hours, then we took turns on Assassin’s Creed... I think by four in the morning, we were playing Pokémon.”

Ymir literally growled. “You were screaming over _Pokémon_?!” she shouted.

Jean rubbed the back of his neck. “In my defense, Connie was using Metapod, and Armin-”

“I AM GOING TO _KILL YOU!_ ”

“Ymir?”

Ymir whirled around and saw her roommate, Christa, standing behind her, rubbing her eyes sleepily. _Man, is she cute_ , Jean mused, unable to keep his eyes off of her bare legs framed with pink frilly shorts and fluffy bunny slippers. He heard Connie make a noise behind him.

“Christa,” Ymir said, her tone suddenly soft.

“You told me you weren’t going to yell at them,” Christa pouted, her eyes practically sparkling.

“I wasn’t just going to let them get away with it,” Ymir grumbled.

“Ymir, I want to be friends with the neighbors!” Christa said, stomping her foot. _You can be friends me with anytime_ , Jean thought.

“Christa, they were yelling over _Pokémon_ ,” Ymir groaned.

Instead of becoming sympathetic, Christa let out a delighted gasp. “You boys play Pokémon? We’ll have to play together someone!”

Jean blinked. “O-okay, yeah, sure!”

“Dork,” Marco coughed behind him. Armin clapped a hand over his mouth to hide a laugh. _Damnit, you guys..._

“C’mon, Ymir,” Christa said, tugging on Ymir’s arm.

Ymir sighed. “Fine.” She turned and shot Jean one last glare. “But don’t let it happen again.”

“You got it, boss,” Jean said nervously.

Ymir let out one last growl before following Christa back to their dorm.

“How someone as nice as Christa is friends with someone like Ymir is beyond me,” Jean grumbled as he closed the door, leaning against it with a heavy sigh of relief that he’d survived.

“I’m impressed that she’s not terrified of her,” Marco admitted.

Jean shot Marco a look, still annoyed at his comment. “Yeah. Anyway, we getting coffee or not?”

~

The two of them had been pretty quiet on their walk to Sawney and Bean’s. Sure, the Levi thing had been addressed to an extent, but there was still some unspoken thing between them that neither wanted to address.

Then again, Jean can’t shut up when something’s on his mind.

“So, how was the Walk of Shame this morning?” he asked while they stood in line for coffee.

Marco went redder than Jean had ever seen him before.

“I... I-it...”

“Marco, relax,” Jean said with a laugh.

“Does it still count as the Walk of Shame if we didn’t actually... y’know...”

Jean thought about it. “Hm. I’m not sure. So you two just...?”

“Can we talk about this after we get coffee?” Marco asked, glancing nervously at the people in front of them in line.

“Sure thing.”

When they stepped up to order, the barista didn’t smile or greet them. She didn’t even ask for their order. She just stared at Marco with a look of deep concentration on her face.

“Um, hi?” Marco said, looking nervous.

“You know her?” Jean muttered. Marco shook his head no.

The barista kept staring at Marco, and just as Marco opened his mouth to speak again, she suddenly shouted, “Erwin!”

“Oh, no,” Marco breathed.

A door behind the counter swung open and from behind it stepped a really tall blond guy with the build of a GI Joe but the handsome features of a Ken doll.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Is this the guy?” the barista asked. She still hadn’t taken her eyes off of Marco. Or blinked.

“Hm? Oh, hey, Marco!” said GI Joe, a big smile on his face.

“You know _this_ guy?” Jean hissed.

“Hey, Erwin,” Marco said shakily. _How does Marco know this guy?_

“Yeah, Hanji, this is the guy,” Erwin said.

The barista burst into a huge smile and let out a delighted squeal. “He’s so _cute!_ Oh, he’s so much cuter than the last guy Levi saw, oh, look at his _freckles!_ ”

_Oh. Friends of Levi._

“Um, Hanji?” Erwin said with a chuckle.

“Oh, goodness, where are my manners?” she laughed. “My name is Hanji, I’m a friend of Levi’s.”

“‘Friend’,” Erwin repeated under his breath with a smile as Marco shook Hanji’s hand.

“Oh, shut up, he knows he loves me.”

Erwin just smirked and went back inside the door.

Hanji seemed to remember that she was working. “Oh, um, did you want to order something?”

“Yeah,” Marco said with a nervous laugh, still looking wary of Hanji. “Grande caramel mocha.”

“Yum. And you?” Hanji asked Jean as she wrote down Marco’s order.

“Grande coffee, just black.”

“You take it black?” Marco asked, smiling a little.

“It’s the way my dad takes it,” Jean mumbled.

“You’ve never told me about your dad,” Marco said as he waited for Hanji to hand back his change. “Nice guy?”

Jean made a noncommittal grunt in response. Thankfully, Marco didn’t pursue the topic.

“You boys sticking around for a while?” Hanji asked as she went to work making Marco's drink. “I think Levi’s gonna stop by this morning.”

“Really?” Marco said a little too quickly. He realized it, too, and he started blushing for the thousandth time that morning.

“Yeah, he usually comes by on Sunday mornings to tutor,” Hanji explained.

“He tutors?” Marco asked, his eyes so wide with admiration that Jean could practically see little hearts in them.

“Yeah, French,” Hanji said, and Jean perked up a little. _He’s French?_ Well, it made sense, considering his last name was Rivaille. It was at least more obvious than Jean being half-French, considering he had the most German-sounding last name of all from his father.

“He speaks French?” Marco repeated, his voice a little higher this time.

“ _Oui_ ,” Hanji replied with a giggle.

Jean grinned. “ _Parlez-vous français aussi?_ ” You speak French too?

Hanji gasped in delight. “ _Oui! Et vous?_ ” Yes! And you?

Jean shrugged. “ _Ma grand-mère m’a appris un peu, mais je ne suis pas couramment._ ” My grandmother taught me a little, but I’m not fluent.

Hanji waved his response off. “ _Non, vous parlez français très bien!_ ” No, you speak French very well!

Jean bowed his head. “ _Merci!_ ” Thank you!

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” Marco butted in, looking at Jean in surprise.

“What?” Jean asked.

“‘What’? Since when do you speak French?”

“I’ve always spoken French. My grand-mère taught me. Sorry, grandma,” Jean corrected himself, clearing his throat. “Force of habit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jean rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know, it never came up. I don’t introduce myself as, ‘Hey, I’m Jean, and I speak French!’”

“Well, you should, because that’s really cool. You’re French then?”

“Half, on my mom’s side,” Jean explained.

“You boys want to pick a table?” Hanji asked, putting two steaming mugs on a tray. “I’ll bring your drinks over.”

They picked a table by the window, and Hanji managed to deliver both mugs, filled to the brim, without spilling a drop. “ _Deux cafés pour deux beaux garçons._ ”

“ _Merci_ , Hanji,” Jean said.

“What’d she say?” Marco asked as Hanji headed back for the counter.

“Two coffees for two handsome boys.”

“Oh,” Marco said, his cheeks going red.

“You blush so goddamn much,” Jean said with a chuckle before blowing on his piping hot coffee.

“I can’t help it,” Marco mumbled bitterly.

“Nah, don’t feel bad about it,” Jean said. “Just an observation, that’s all.”

Marco nodded, dipping his finger carefully into the caramel drizzle on his drink and licking it off.

Jean cleared his throat. “So?”

“So what?”

“Are you gonna tell me what happened last night?” Jean asked.

“Oh, that.” Marco looked down at his drink instead of at Jean. “I don’t know. We, um... we made out then I slept in his bed.” Jean could tell he had tried to make it sound casual, but as usual, his burning cheeks gave him away.

“Dude, you don’t have to be so embarrassed about it,” Jean said. He dared a sip of his coffee and immediately burned his tongue. _Fuck_.

“I just... I figured you didn’t want to hear the details,” Marco mumbled.

“I mean, I don’t need to hear how his tongue tasted,” Jean said, causing Marco to bury his face in his hands, “but you can still tell me how it went without censoring yourself.”

Marco looked up from his hands. “O-okay,” he said. He still looked unsure, but told the story anyway.

And once he got over his initial awkwardness, Marco was _adorable_ when he talked about Levi. He couldn’t stop smiling, and whenever he blushed or hid his face, Jean could tell it was from his own shyness and not from any shame. The poor kid was so damn smitten.

“That’s great, Marco,” Jean said once he finished his story. “Sounds like it went really well, huh?”

“Yeah,” Marco said, grinning down at the table. “It was one of the best nights of my life.” Suddenly Marco looked up. “Oh, wait a second, I completely forgot! Wasn’t there something you wanted to tell me about?”

Jean froze. “What?”

“Yeah, when you called me last night! You sounded like you had a story or something.”

Jean didn’t respond, because his little encounter with Mikasa completely paled in comparison to Marco spending the night with his own romantic interest. _Oh, you slept with Levi? That’s great. Not to brag or anything, but I stuck a band-aid on Mikasa Ackerman’s face. No big deal._

Luckily, Jean didn’t have to respond, because Levi showed up.

He paused when he stepped inside the shop, his eyes immediately landing on Marco. “Marco? What are you doing here?”

“Levi!” Hanji shouted, attracting the attention of the few other customers in the shop. “ _Bon matin! Ça-va?_ ”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “ _Pourquoi es-tu parler français?_ ” Why are you speaking French?

Hanji nodded her head toward Jean and Marco. “Sorry, we were speaking in French before, and now I’m in a mood.”

Levi looked surprised at Marco. “You speak French?”

Marco immediately shook his head. “No, no, I don’t know any French at all. Jean speaks French.”

Levi looked less excited now (not that he had looked particularly excited before; that guy really needed to work on varying his facial expressions). “ _Vraiment_?” he asked. Really?

“Oui,” Jean said. Half of him wanted to sound tough about it, because he could tell Levi doubted his ability and wanted to prove him wrong. But on the other hand, he really didn’t want to speak French with Levi, because he would not be able to handle the smugness on Levi’s part if Jean made a mistake. So the toughness didn’t really come across.

“ _Comment parlez-vous français?_ ” Levi asked. How do you speak French?

“ _Avec ma bouche_ ,” Jean said with a smirk. With my mouth.

Levi scoffed. “ _Vous savez ce que je voulais dire._ ” You know what I meant.

“ _Ma grand-mère m’a appris_ ,” Jean explained. My grandmother taught me.

“Not bad,” Levi said, quickly returning to English. Jean felt himself relax; not only had he not messed up, but he’d managed to make a joke.

That was when Jean decided that he approved of Levi. Sure, he still didn’t really see the connection between him and Marco, but he was sure he would, in time. Levi was a good guy. Rough around the edges, and scary as fuck, but he used his power for good. And he was good enough for Marco, so there had to be something likable about him, right?

Plus, how could Jean hate Levi with the way Marco had just talked about him?

“But,” Levi said, snapping Jean out of his thoughts, “your accent is shit. Your grandmother should’ve known to teach you better.”

Jean blinked. Did Levi just insult his grand-mère? Sure, he insulted Jean’s accent, but Jean he already knew his accent was shit. _“Your grandmother should’ve taught you better.”_ He had said it with such distaste; how _dare_ Jean’s grandmother allow him to speak the French language like that. Jean wasn’t close to a lot of people, but to those he was, he was loyal as fuck, and his grand-mère fell under that category. The approval was gone.

Jean watched Levi as he moved past the moment like it was nothing, giving Marco a quick kiss before going to the counter to order something. He watched as Marco turned bright red in absolute pleasure, and hid his smile in his coffee cup.

_How could that asshole possibly make Marco so happy?_

~

When Jean got back to his dorm, Connie was gone, leaving just Armin, who was typing furiously away on his computer.

“What’s up?” Jean asked as he closed the door behind up, wondering what Armin was working on so urgently.

“I’m trying to figure out how your father got my phone number,” Armin said, sounding upset.

Jean froze. “What?”

“You didn’t answer your phone, so your father called _me_ ,” Armin explained, “but I don’t know how. I’ve always been so careful about personal information on the internet, but how else could he have gotten my number? You didn’t give it to him, did you?”

“No, I haven’t talked to my father since I got here,” Jean said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Sure enough:

_1 Missed Call - Dad_

“Shit,” Jean hissed. “He’s gonna kill me...”

_More like he’s going to ignore you until Thanksgiving._

“He wants you to call him back as soon as possible,” Armin said before turning his attention back to his laptop.

 _Fuck._ Jean was already dialing his father’s number as he stepped out into the hall.

“Jean?”

Jean felt his heart sink at his father’s serious tone. “H-hi, dad,” Jean said, trying to sound cheerful.

“It’s about time.”

_Shit._

“What were you doing that was so important? Not just sleeping in, I hope.”

“No, of course not!” Jean said quickly. His father always disapproved of sleeping in late on weekends. He thought it hurt productivity. That always makes for a fun childhood. “I was having coffee with a friend.”

“A girl?” his father asked, curiosity in his voice, perhaps cheering up a little. Meeting a nice girl was on Jean’s college to-do list, after all.

 _Why couldn’t you have called yesterday? I was with a girl yesterday._ “No, no, just my friend, Marco,” Jean explained.

The curiosity was quickly replaced with concern. “You went out for coffee just the two of you?” his dad asked, and Jean’s stomach tightened. His father had said a thousand things in that exact same tone of voice.

_“Aren’t you spending a little too much time with that boy? People might start talking, Jean.”_

_“‘Adorable’? Jean, you go around calling girls adorable, people might talk. If you really like a girl, you call her hot or beautiful. Men don’t use ‘adorable’.”_

_“You’re wearing a scarf? Doesn’t that look a little...?”_

Gay. Jean’s dad was constantly paranoid that he was going to turn out gay. Not even that, he was just afraid people would _think_ Jean was gay, because he could never conceive anything but a straight son.

And Jean _was_ straight. But part of him wished he was at least bisexual just to piss his father off. Then again, if he was, his upbringing probably would have been even more fucked up than it already was...

“Yeah, just the two of us,” Jean said. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, of course, I’m sure!” his father assured him. “But just be careful. People might talk.”

“So, um, you wanted to talk to me about something?” Jean asked, trying to move past the topic. “Oh, and how did you get Armin’s phone number?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m coming to visit next weekend!” his father said cheerfully, conveniently disregarding the second question. “I want to see how you’re adjusting.”

 _Oh, Jesus, please no._ “You don’t have to take time off of work for that. I’m doing fine, and nothing interesting is going on.”

“Nonsense, you’re taking over the company one day!” his father laughed. “I’m ensuring the future of the company is in good hands. This is work.”

_Oh, good, I was worried that you cared for a second._

“I’ll get there Saturday morning. Alright, Jean?”

“Yeah, s’fine.”

“Don’t mumble.”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Jean repeated.

“Better. I’ll see you-”

“Wait,” Jean interrupted. _Probably going to pay for that later._ “I mean, that’s all you have to say? How’s the cat? How’re the neighbors? How’s mom?”

“Cat’s fine. Neighbors are fine. Your mother’s not in the country, she went to France to visit her mother.”

Jean felt his stomach drop. “She did? Is grand-mère okay?”

“Don’t get so worked up, Jean,” his father laughed. _Answer the question, you asshole._ “Your grandmother is fine. People like a family-oriented guy, but you shouldn’t be so attached to your grandmother. It looks weak.”

 _Shouldn’t be attached to the one family member that’s always been nice to me. Got it._ “Right.”

“Is that it then?”

Jean sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I’ll see you Saturday, son!”

 _Son_. Jean felt himself relax, something in his chest immediately soothed at being called “son”. “Son” meant he’d done right, that he’d passed for today. “Bye, dad!” he said, unable to stop his mouth from curling up into a smile.

Jean’s father hung up, and Jean pulled the phone away from his ear. The smile slowly faded from his face, and he couldn’t help but hate himself for it turning up in the first place. _God, I hate my father._

Jean went back inside and dug through his things until he found a little box of fancy French stationery, a present that had arrived from his grand-mère just before he’d left for college. His father had laughed and told Jean not to bring it. If they saw a man with that kind of frilly stationery, they might talk, after all. Jean brought it anyway, because he wasn’t going to write to his grand-mère with anything less than this fancy-ass stationery.

“Are you writing a letter?” Armin asked once he’d taken notice of what Jean was doing.

“Yup.”

“That’s so nice,” Armin said with a smile. “Who’s it for?”

“My grand-mère,” Jean said unashamedly. “My mom’s mom. She lives in Paris.”

“Wow, really?” Armin gasped. “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris!”

“Little advice,” Jean said as he pulled a smooth sheet of paper from the box. “Never go anyway in Paris without ordering bread. You will miss that shit when you get home.”

Armin laughed. “Are you very close with your grandmother?”

“Yeah, I am,” Jean said. “Which probably sounds lame, but-”

“I don’t think it’s lame,” Armin said. “I’m really close with my grandfather, too. I mean... I... I _was_ close...”

Jean didn’t have to ask. “I’m sorry, Armin.”

Armin went quiet.

“Hey, how about after I finish my letter, we play more Call of Duty?” Jean offered.

Armin immediately shook his head, his eyes going wide. “ _God_ , no.”

“Alright, point taken,” Jean laughed. “Pokémon?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Armin said with a big grin. “Ready to lose again?”

Jean just shook his head as he chuckled, because he couldn’t even talk trash back. Armin was way too good at Pokémon. His strategizing was _insane_. “You’re on, Arlert,” he said as he mentally prepared himself to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((ooh, Jean's father visits next chapter!))
> 
> You are all so lovely and reading your comments makes me want to cry.
> 
> Also, feel free to correct my French. I only took three years of French in high school, so, y'know, I probably made a bunch of mistakes.


	9. Close To His Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean's father is awful and Marco is not.

Jean was suffocating. Pacing, back and forth, back and forth, sitting down on his bed, rapidly tapping his foot on the ground, _tap, tap, tap_ , burying his face in his hands, _tap, tap, tap_ , standing back up and pacing, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

_Fuck, when is Armin going to get back?_

Armin was out with Eren, and Jean needed to talk, _God_ , did he need to talk.

Sit down. _Tap, tap, tap_. Stand up. Back and forth.

_Fuck, do I need to talk to someone._

How did this begin?

It began really small. The first fucking snowflake that had snowballed into this state Jean was in now...

Back and forth. Sit down. _Tap, tap, tap_. Breathe in, breathe out. _Tap, tap, tap_. “Fuck.”

Monday morning. Jean ran into Marco on his way to class, which was unusual but explained by the to-go cup from Sawney and Bean’s in his hand. Marco seemed annoyed. He wouldn’t say why. Jean asked him for some of his coffee. Marco told him that it wasn’t coffee. It was tea. Marco doesn’t drink tea. Marco doesn’t like tea. Marco confessed that when he went to order his usual that morning, Levi had ordered him tea instead, because it was better. Marco was annoyed, but he wouldn’t admit it. He acted like it was fine. Jean watched him as he walked away. He was still watching when Marco dropped the nearly full cup of tea into a trashcan.

Stand up. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Tuesday morning. Jean got up early and went to Sawney and Bean’s. He bought coffee for himself and a grande caramel mocha. He left it outside Marco’s dorm. Marco never mentioned it. Never texted thank you, never said anything next time Jean saw him. Jean didn’t know why he’d done it in the first place. He just knew he wish he hadn’t.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Breathe in, breathe out. Back and forth.

Wednesday night. Marco went out on a date with Levi. Connie and Christa joined Jean and Armin for Pokémon. Jean didn’t pay attention. Marco had texted him thirty minutes into his date because Levi had run into a friend and was ignoring Marco to talk to them. Marco didn’t know what to do and texted Jean. Jean told him to fake a headache and hang out with them instead. Marco didn’t want to lie to Levi. Jean told him Armin might lose at Pokémon for once. He told him Christa had just called Armin a motherfucker. Marco still didn’t come.

Sit down. “Fuck.” _Tap, tap, tap_. Stand up. Sit down.

Thursday morning. Jean hadn’t heard from Marco. He texted Connie. Marco didn’t come back to their dorm last night. He’d stayed at Levi’s. Again.

 _Tap, tap, tap_. Breathe in, breathe out. _Tap, tap, tap_.

Friday evening. Jean invited Marco to go see a movie they’d both been dying to see. Marco wished he could but he was having dinner with Levi. Armin had plans with Eren. Jean went to the movie with Connie. They saw Mikasa with her roommate at the movie theatre. She said hello and introduced him to Annie, but said nothing else before walking away. He still texted Marco about it. Marco didn’t reply.

Stand up. Back and forth. Back and forth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Breathe in, breathe out. Back and forth.

And then there was today. Saturday. The day Jean’s father had come to visit.

“ _Fuck_.”

~

Jean stood staring at himself in the mirror. He was finished getting ready, but leaving the bathroom was admitting that his father was arriving soon and he was going to have to get on with his day. So he stayed in the bathroom, staring at himself.

Long, slender features. A sharp jawline. Narrow, amber eyes. Light skin. Blond hair. Thin, arching eyebrows. Jean was the spitting image of his late grandfather, who was also his namesake. Jean Beaumont. His grand-mère had showed him tons of pictures when she’d visited for his graduation.

“ _Il est très beau_ ,” she said fondly, tracing a finger over the black and white photos. He is very handsome. Jean noticed that she still never used the past tense when talking about him. “ _Je suis heureux que tu lui ressembles_.” I’m happy you look like him.

Jean was glad, too. He felt a certain pride whenever he looked at himself, knowing that he looked just like his grandfather. This was also, however, the first way in which he’d failed his father.

“Scrawny.” That was how his tall, burly father had described him when he was young. His sisters all had the signature broad shoulders and square jaw of a Kirschtein. Jean had the slim, sharp features of a Beaumont.

Jean had been convinced it was a bad thing until he visited his grand-mère in Paris when he was eight. She told him what a handsome boy he was, and showed him fuzzy, black and white photos of his grandfather when he had been a little boy.

“ _Tu lui ressembles_ ,” she said. “Do you understand, Jean?”

Jean shook his head no, and felt stupid for not understanding.

However, his grand-mère had smiled at him. “ _Tu lui ressembles_ ,” she repeated. “You look like him. Would you like it if I taught you French, Jean?”

For the rest of the day, Jean couldn’t stop repeating over and over the first phrase he’d been taught, “ _Je m’appelle Jean! Je m’appelle Jean!_ ” My name is Jean! My name is Jean!

His sisters told him to shut up. His father got annoyed. Jean didn’t care, because his name was Jean and he could say so in French. And he did. Repeatedly. Because Jean cannot shut up.

His mother said it was cute. His father told her to stop encouraging him. Jean only spoke French with his grand-mère from then on.

His grand-mère came to visit a few years later, when Jean was fourteen. He had just started French classes at high school, and was already in the second year class because he had studied so much what she had taught him. She was so proud that she promised to take him back to France to practice over the summer.

His father said he couldn’t go, because they were spending the summer in Florida, with Jean’s other grandparents.

“ _Vous ne soyez pas en colère contre lui_ ,” his grand-mère told him. You shouldn’t be angry with him. “ _Il veut ce qui est le mieux pour toi_.” He wants what’s best for you.

Jean didn’t tell her that his father had spent the last week ignoring him because he’d gotten a C on his math test. He just asked her to tell him more stories about his grandfather. His grandfather, apparently, hadn’t been any good at math either.

After that visit, Jean didn’t see his grand-mère again until graduation. She had started tearing up at the airport when she first saw him, crying, “ _Mon beau garçon!_ ” My handsome boy! She pulled Jean down with more force than an old lady ought to have and kissed his cheeks.

Jean heard his father grumble, “That’s no way a young man should be acting in public.”

Jean later asked his grand-mère if he could keep a picture of his grandfather. It was currently folded up in his wallet.

“You may be a Kirschtein,” his grandmother had said before leaving, one of the rare instances she had used English with him, “but you will always be a Beaumont to me. My beautiful Beaumont boy. Your grandfather would be so proud of you.”

Jean kept these words close to his chest as he turned away from the mirror and went back into his dorm.

“You look like you’re in a good mood,” Armin said, looking up from the textbook in his lap as Jean entered the room.

Jean cleared his throat. “Um... Well, I, uh-”

He was interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

_Well. This is it._

Jean answered the door and found himself looking up at his tall, broad father, who was wearing a suit, of all things, to visit his son at college.

“Jean!” he boomed, clapping Jean on the shoulder. “How are you, son?”

Son. His chest filled with sudden shameful pride. “Good! How are you, dad?”

His dad looked around the room. “Glad to see you’re keeping things tidy.”

_First test passed._

His father stepped inside and Armin stood up, smiling and giving a cheerful, “Hello!”

“Dad, this is my roommate, Armin,” Jean said. _Please don’t let this get fucked up..._

“Charles Kirschtein,” his father said, shaking Armin’s hand. It was a little funny, seeing his enormous father shaking hands with Armin, who was even scrawnier than Jean, but still, no one had been offended yet. So far, so good. “Call me Charlie.”

“A-alright, Charlie,” Armin said with a nod.

His father turned to Jean. “Have you heard from the fraternity boys yet? I would have thought you’d moved into the house by now.”

“U-um, not yet, but-”

“You should take the initiative, Jean,” his father said. “They _have_ accepted you, right?”

“Right! I-I mean, I think so-”

“Think?” His father raised an eyebrow. “What have you been doing this whole time, Jean? I thought you wanted to get into this fraternity.”

 _No, I really don’t._ “I do, but-”

“No excuses. If you want something, you need to go out and get it, Jean.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Well, it’s nice to see your roommate is willing to put up with your laziness, anyway,” he said with a laugh. Armin looked uncomfortable, like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh too or not, but his father didn’t seem to notice. “What are you studying, Armin?”

“History,” Armin said, looking a little more confident now that he knew how to answer. “But I’m also thinking about getting into-”

_Oh, Jesus, Armin, don’t say it._

“-environmental science.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Environmental science, huh?”

“Yeah, the university has a great biology program! I wasn’t even thinking about studying it in high school, but then I read this book over the summer, and-”

“Never did quite see the point of all that stuff,” Jean’s father interrupted, clearly not interested in listening to Armin talk about it. Armin froze, unsure of how to proceed. _Of course you don’t see the point_ , Jean thought bitterly. His father’s company was constantly providing support for campaigns and legislation that looked to reduce the protection on the environment. All behind closed doors, of course, so they wouldn’t damage their public image.

Armin cleared his throat. “Right. Um, Jean, I should get going, I’m meeting Eren in a few minutes. I’ll see you later,” he said, heading for the door.

“Erin?” Jean’s father said, clearly not getting that he’d just offended Armin. “Girlfriend?”

_You nosy asshole, just let him leave._

“No, Eren’s a boy,” Armin responded.

 _Wrong fucking response._ Jean felt his stomach drop as his father’s face fell into something much more forced and artificial.

“Oh. I see.”

“Eren’s not his boyfriend, dad,” Jean butted in.

“What?” Armin said, his face turning bright red. “Oh, no, of course not, he’s just a friend!”

“Oh, well, that’s a relief!” Jean’s father laughed. Jean’s fists clenched at his side. “Sorry, kid, there was just something about you that looked like you could be... y’know.”

_And there goes my friendship with Armin. Nice while it lasted._

Armin nodded and walked out without another word.

“You shouldn’t say things like that to people, dad,” Jean muttered.

“Like what?”

_Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable._

Jean took a deep breath, trying to alleviate the tightness in his chest. That was the kind of comment his father always made, the kind that just left that little tension, that sudden bit of stress. It was never blatant, never obviously prejudiced. It was just wrong enough, just offensive enough to make you cringe. To make you wonder if you should say something to correct them. To remind them that it’s not polite to tell someone that they look gay after making it clear that you would be uncomfortable if they _were_ gay.

“Never mind,” Jean muttered, his chest still just a little too tight for comfort. “Let’s just go.”

Jean had no fucking idea why his father wanted a tour. He went to this exact college for four years. There was nothing new to see. Still, he insisted, and Jean could only pray he wouldn’t run into any of his friends.

That didn’t happen, of course.

At the library, they ran into Connie, who was “waiting for Sasha.” Jean still wasn’t convinced this Sasha existed. Connie was always talking about hanging out with her, but no one in their group had yet to meet her or even see her. Still, as far as fake girlfriends go, Connie was doing a pretty poor job on this one. If anyone asked if he was dating Sasha, he would just blush and change the subject.

Meeting Connie didn’t go quite as badly as meeting Armin. Jean’s father at least seemed pleased when Connie said he was waiting for a girl. He was less pleased when Connie worded it as, “She’s gonna be here in like, five minutes so we can pretend to study.” Connie was thankfully unaffected by the subsequent snide comments, and Jean was able to leave the library with at least one friendship still in tact.

Then Jean’s father wanted to stop for coffee.

Sawney and Bean’s hadn’t been around yet when his father had gone to school, but he had heard good things about it from old college friends who had had a chance to visit before he had. There wasn’t any chance of Jean taking him to the crappy Starbucks on the other end of campus.

Hanji was working register when they arrived. Jean had gotten to talking to Hanji more and more over the week, and the two of them were actually sort of becoming friends. Although maybe not for much longer.

“Hey, Jean!” Hanji had said cheerfully when they saw Jean enter. “The usual?”

“Yeah, but make it two this time,” Jean said. He nodded his head towards his father. “My dad’s visiting.”

“Hello,” his father said, holding out his hand. “Friend of Jean’s?”

“He’s one of my regulars, anyway,” she said with a friendly laugh, shaking his hand. “I’m Hanji.”

“Hanji. Unusual name,” his father said with a smile. _For fuck’s sake._

“Yeah, pretty fitting for me,” she laughed, letting it roll right off of her back. _Hanji is the best._ “Is that coffee for here or to go?”

“Here,” Jean’s father answered, crushing Jean’s hope of a quick get away.

After swiping Jean’s father’s credit card, Hanji walked away from the register to pour them their coffee. “You boys take a seat, I’ll bring it right over.”

“Thanks, Hanji,” Jean called back.

“She’s cute,” his father said to him in not quite enough of an undertone. “Ever think about seeing her?”

Jean hoped Hanji hadn’t overheard, but the loud cackle she let out gave away that she had.

“Yeah, I don’t think she’s my type,” Jean muttered. _I wonder what he would think of Mikasa..._

“Jean!”

Jean immediately whirled around to see Marco stepping inside the shop, his poor little soon-to-be-offended face grinning widely. _C’mon, I finally managed to get him to not offend someone. Can’t I have ten minutes of peace to enjoy it?_

“I’m sorry I haven’t been answering my phone,” Marco apologized. “I was out really late with Levi, and then my phone died, and-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jean said, something in his chest inexplicably soothed by Marco apologizing and something else deeply annoyed that he’d been out late with Levi.

“I saw your text, though! That’s cool you talked to Mikasa again!” Marco said with a weird smile, the enthusiasm in his voice obviously faked.

_Dude, just admit that I’m pathetic for getting excited about her saying hi to me._

“Think you’re gonna ask her out anytime soon?”

“I don’t know,” Jean admitted. “It still feels too soon, y’know? I don’t think she’d say yes if I asked now.”

“Who’s this ‘she’?” Jean’s father asked, butting into the conversation. Jean had somehow almost forgotten he was there.

“Mikasa,” Marco responded before Jean could, with a mischievous grin aimed toward Jean. “Just this girl he’s been flirting with.”

“Jean, you didn’t tell me there was a girl,” his father said with a laugh. He turned to Marco and held out his hand. “Charles Kirschtein. Call me Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie,” Marco said, his forearm flexing slightly as he shook Jean’s father’s hand. _Firm handshake. That’s good._ “I’m Marco.”

“Ah, so this is Marco!” Jean’s father boomed. Marco immediately turned red, glancing nervously at Jean. _Jesus, he’s making it sound like I went on and on about him. I mentioned him_ once _._

_Still, no one’s been offended yet. Good start._

“What are you studying, Marco?”

“Oh, I’m still undeclared,” Marco said with a laugh. “I’m interested in too many things.”

“Is that right?” Jean’s father asked, his grin still genuine. “Not even any ideas?”

“Well, right now, I’m really liking this political science course I’m taking, and-”

“Political science!” his father said delightedly. “That was one of my favorite subjects when I went here. Excellent course of study, m’boy.”

_Jesus, I have to work my ass for a “son” and Marco is already “m’boy”? Maybe I don’t have to worry about this one._

Of course Jean needed to worry about this one. The universe was not satisfied unless Jean was in a constant state of worry.

Marco’s phone started ringing, and Jean could tell from the blush that dusted his cheeks when he checked the caller ID that it was Levi.

“I’ll call them back later,” Marco said, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

Jean raised his eyebrows in surprise. _Really? He’s ignoring Levi? Did something happen?_

“Go ahead and take it, kid,” Jean’s father laughed. “I’d recognize that look anywhere. It’s a girl, isn’t it? Trust me, Marco, you wanna answer the phone. You know how women can get.”

Unfortunately, he said this just as Hanji came over with their cups of coffee.

_Nope. Everyone. Literally everyone has to get offended today._

Hanji didn’t say anything. But God, did she want to. Jean could see it in her eyes, in her tensed shoulders, her tightened jaw, that _God_ , she wanted to. Jean mouthed an apology and she just shook her head as she walked back to the counter.

_All we need is a racist joke and we have a whole spectrum of things to get offended about covered._

“Oh, it’s not a girl,” Marco said. “It’s...”

And Marco hesitated. And Jean hoped for one fleeting moment that Marco wasn’t going to continue, and that he would be able to escape this one.

“...my boyfriend.”

_Fucking fuck._

“Boyfriend?” Jean’s father repeated, obviously disappointed. Jean’s one acceptable friend is gay. Everything is ruined.

Marco visibly shrunk away, taking a slight step back and slumping his shoulders. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ “Yeah, my boyfriend. I-is there a problem?”

_Ever wonder why I didn’t tell you about my father, Marco? Because this is why._

_Why I was too afraid to stick up for you with the guys from the fraternity? This is why._

_This is why I am the way that I am._

_Still wanna be friends?_

Jean’s father just sighed and turned away from Marco, like him being gay just made him not matter anymore. “Jean, I’m a little disappointed with the people you’re choosing to associate with.”

Jean’s fists clenched at his side. “Excuse me?”

“The people you choose to be friends with are a reflection of who you are,” his father said seriously. “The choices you’re making... People might talk.”

Jean wanted to say something. He wanted to say something so fucking badly that it hurt. But still, he just nodded his head like a good little soldier and muttered, “Right.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kirschtein,” Marco interrupted, recognizing that his right to call him “Charlie” had been revoked. Jean looked up at him in surprise. “I think you’re being too hard on your son. Jean’s one of the best people and best students I’ve met since coming here. You should be proud.”

Jean could have fucking kissed Marco right then and there. Marco stood up for him when Jean couldn’t stand up for himself. Jean hadn’t even stood up for Marco when he’d had the chance, and still Marco said something. Shy, nervous Marco, who couldn’t even talk to his own boyfriend with stuttering here and there, just stood up for Jean. He was brave when it mattered. Jean was a fucking coward when it mattered. _Fuck..._

Jean’s father didn’t change his mind. He nodded at Marco dismissively and he and Jean left the coffee shop. They walked a little longer before Jean’s father told him that he had a headache and was going to go back to his hotel for the day. Jean knew what it meant. He’d failed, and now came his punishment. He was going to be ignored.

Just like when he was a kid, and he’d go a whole week without sleep because he couldn’t stop crying like a fucking baby because his father refused to acknowledge his existence, and because he knew he wasn’t supposed to fucking cry because boys don’t cry, and he’d known he was failing his father even further, which had made him cry even more.

The difference now, at least, was that Jean learned to keep his tears bottled up. That need to cry ended up evolving into a need to talk, to get it all out of his system somehow, to find solutions in his words as he said them. It was the only thing that worked.

Jean kept pacing back and forth in his dorm. Back and forth. Back and forth. He’d been alone in his dorm for hours. Armin was still gone. Jean felt too ashamed to call anyone himself. But fuck, did he need to talk to someone.

Back and forth. Sit down. Breathe in, breathe out. Fail. Keep suffocating. Keep failing. Silence. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He needed to fucking talk to someone soon or he was going to crack. He needed-

_Marco_

That was what his caller ID read on his phone. Jean couldn’t answer it fucking fast enough.

“Marco?” Jean said quickly.

“Jean,” came Marco’s voice, calm and soothing. “Are you okay? You sound... panicked.”

“Marco, I can’t handle this,” Jean said, still trying to breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Still failing. “My dad’s only been here for a day and I can’t handle this. Fuck, Marco, he’s going to be back in the morning and-”  
 “Hey,” Marco interrupted gently. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

A walk. A walk with Marco right now sounded like the actual greatest thing in the world in the world right now. “God, yes,” he practically sighed into the phone, immediately standing up. “Where are you?”

“Actually, passing by your dorm right now,” Marco said. “I was just... out.”

“That’s great, Marco. God, you don’t know how bad I need this,” Jean said absentmindedly as he yanked some shoes onto his feet and grabbed a jacket, still pulling his arms through the sleeves as he walked out the door. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to Marco before hanging up; he just needed to go see him as soon as possible.

Jean practically ran down the few flights of stairs, and once he stepped outside, saw Marco standing under a streetlight, waiting for him...

“Man, is it good to see you,” Jean said breathlessly as he walked up to him. The fresh night air was heaven for his lungs, and Marco, bless him, had the most calming presence in the world.

“You never answered my question,” Marco said, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck, Marco, I’m never okay,” Jean blurted out. If Marco had looked concerned before, it was nothing compared to his expression now, and Jean wished he hadn’t said anything.

“Tell me about it,” Marco said gently after a pause.

Jean shook his head. “You don’t want to hear about this-”

“Yes, I do,” Marco snapped, more forcefully than Jean was used to from him. “It’s obvious that you need to talk about it, so talk about it with me.”

So Jean spilled. He told Marco every tiny detail about what had happened with his father, even through the point that Marco had come into the story. And Marco listened as they walked across campus in the streetlights, never making a comment, or even a sound. He just nodded his head every now, and Jean could see from the focus in his eyes that Marco was really listening.

Only Jean didn’t stop himself after he finished talking about his day. He _couldn’t_ stop himself. He found himself telling Marco all about his childhood. He told him about his mother, and his grand-mère, and how he was a Beaumont. He told Marco about his sisters and how they had all managed to be Kirschteins. He told Marco about the times when his father would ignore him, and Jean couldn’t sleep for days when that happened. He told Marco how he used to sob because he thought his dad hated him. He told him that his father had taught him that his wasn’t okay to cry. He told him how even now, Jean would sometimes lie awake at night for hours because he got a bad grade, or because he didn’t understand a concept in his textbook, or because he still didn’t have a girlfriend, or because he hated the boys in the fraternity, all such stupid, _stupid_ things, and all of it, _all of it_ , made him feel like a failure, and-

“Jean?” Marco finally interrupted.

Jean stopped and realized he’d started crying somewhere along the way.

There were hot tears streaming down his face.

Jean wiped them away quickly, feeling ashamed because he’d somehow managed to fail again.

“Fuck...” Jean squeaked out, sniffling a little.

Marco stepped forward and pulled Jean tightly into his arms. He was warm, and his arms were strong, and his hand was moving in a steady rhythm up and down Jean’s back in the most comforting way possible.

“It’s okay,” Marco murmured. “You can cry if you want to, Jean. It’s okay to cry.”

That was all it took. Jean burst into loud, ugly sobs, burying his face into Marco’s shoulder and digging his fingers into Marco’s back as he clung to him.

Tears were pouring down Jean’s face, and he was snotty and wet and disgusting, but he didn’t care. For once in his life, he didn’t fucking care. He held onto Marco, and he fucking sobbed because goddamnit, it was okay to cry.

For the first time in his life, it was okay to cry.

Marco made it okay to cry.

And Marco kept holding him, kept moving his hands over his back, kept murmuring that everything was okay and that he was here for him. That was when Jean decided that Marco Bodt was the best person he’d met in his entire life.

Eventually, Jean was cried out, and Marco guided him through deep breaths to get him calm again. Once his breathing had returned to normal, Marco pulled away from him, but left a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Better?”

Jean sniffled, wiping his face with his hands. He looked at Marco’s shoulder and saw it was soaking wet. “Shit, man, I’m sorry about that.”

“ _Better?_ ”

Jean stared at Marco for a moment, sniffling again. “Yeah, I am. Thanks.”

Marco smiled softly. “You’re welcome.”

Jean wanted to tell Marco. _You’re the best person I’ve ever met._ It should’ve been easy to say. But for once in his life, Jean kept something that was on his mind to himself.

“Wanna head back to your dorm?” Marco asked.

The honest answer to that was no. Jean wanted to stay with Marco, out here where it was just the two of them. But he didn’t have a good reason why. “Sure,” he said.

When they got back to his dorm, Marco put his hand on Jean’s shoulder again. “You sure you’re okay now?”

Jean smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, man, it... it really means a lot.”

Marco turned pink, but smiled back. “N-no problem. Listen, if your dad gives you trouble again tomorrow, just text me, alright? Maybe vent as you go instead of unloading everything at once,” he said with a chuckle.

“Sounds good,” Jean laughed. “I’ll talk to you later, Marco.”

“Bye, Jean.”

~~~

When Marco got back to his dorm, Connie was already asleep, passed out and snoring in his bed.

Marco decided to take a shower before he went to bed, and quietly slipped into the bathroom. When he pulled his shirt off, the shoulder was still wet. He ran his thumb over the spot a few times. He brought the chest of the shirt up against his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Jean. The scent made Marco’s stomach dip.

Marco kept inhaling what was left of Jean on his shirt for a little while before he finished stripping and got into the shower. The water was too hot, but he didn’t care and let the burning water sting his skin. It kept him focused as he wondered how the hell he was going to break up with Levi. Because he _had_ to break up with Levi. It wasn’t fair to keep seeing him, after all. Not now.

Marco buried his face in his hands, took in a deep breath filled with the steam of the hot water, and exhaled, a single word on his breath as he emptied his lungs.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((Okay I REALLY want to know what you guys are thinking))
> 
> Thank you so much everyone, you have no idea how much I was freaking out when I broke 100 kudos. I've never really posted anything I've written until very recently and everyone's been so nice and you guys just. I'm really happy, okay?
> 
> I promise there will be fluff next chapter!


	10. Probably Just Going To Get Worse From Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is ridiculous and damn smooth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may want to look up the song "For Me Formidable" by Charles Aznavour for this chapter. Maybe even listen along. You'll know when the time comes.

_From Levi <3:_   
_I wish you could’ve spent the night last night. I missed you._

Marco just stared at his phone, a small blush creeping up his cheeks at the message waiting for him when he’d woken up that morning. _This is what you were going to give up, Marco_ , he thought to himself. _You were going to give up this. For a straight boy._

The more and more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. Levi was sexy. Levi was smart. Levi thought Marco was cute and sweet.

And Jean was straight.

 _What, did you think that all changed because he cried in your shoulder once?_ Marco thought, shaking his head as his own stupidity. Whatever closeness they had felt last night, it was just different for Jean. Jean surely thought of Marco like a brother at this point, if anything.

_You’re being ridiculous, Marco._

Marco’s thumbs hovered over his phone as he tried to think of some reply for Levi that wouldn’t sound completely stupid. Then his phone vibrated in his hands:

_From Jean:_   
_my dad is back and wants to visit the frat house. shoot me now._

Marco’s blush immediately increased tenfold and he felt his stomach dip at just the sight of Jean’s name.

 _There’s nothing even romantic there_ , Marco told himself, willing the blush and butterflies to go aware and failing. _He literally just told you to shoot him. What are you getting so worked up over?_

_You’re being absolutely ridiculous._

But ridiculousness didn’t seem to matter. There was no denying that a sweet text from his boyfriend got a significantly lesser reaction than an ordinary one from Jean.

His phone buzzed again:

_From Jean:_   
_btw, u sure u want me texting u complaints all day? i mean im probably going to get real annoying real fast_

Marco _had_ said that, hadn’t he? He was subjecting himself to a whole day of this. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to survive. Still, he replied:

_To Jean:_   
_no, go right ahead. good luck today!_

_From Jean:_   
_thanks :) ur the best_

Marco set his phone back down and buried his face in his hands as he let out a groan.

“You okay?” Connie asked before yawning loudly as he emerged from the bathroom.

Marco immediately look up from his hands, hoping his blush wasn’t too obvious. “I’m fine!”

“Right,” Connie said sarcastically, pulling his shirt over his head to swap it for a clean one.

“Really, I’m fine,” Marco insisted. He heard his phone vibrate on his desk. He didn’t dare glance at it.

“Sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” Connie asked, his voice muffled by the dark gray T-shirt he was pulling on.

“Do _you_ want to talk about whatever’s going on between you and Sasha?” Marco asked, knowing he was being childish but desperate to not talk about this right now.

Connie’s head popped out of the shirt bright red and blushing. “W-we’re just friends!” he stammered.

Marco shook his head but smiled. “Yeah, well, if you’re not going to tell me about you two, I’m not telling you about this.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that,” Connie whined. “And what does this have to do with Sasha? Is it like, a relationship thing?”

Marco raised his eyebrows. “Are you and Sasha in a relationship?”

“No!” Connie snapped a little too quickly. He realized it and repeated himself less forcefully. “No. I’m just wondering if something’s up with you and Levi.”

Marco was about to answer no, because aside from his feelings for Jean, things were great between him and Levi.

But... were they?

~

Marco had been a talkative child. He was shy at first, sure, but once you got him talking, he could just go on and on and on. It wasn’t until the beginning of middle school that he started getting and quieter and quieter. That was when he realized he wasn’t quite like the other boys. He had nothing to say when his friends talked about the girls they thought were cute. Something told him he shouldn’t say anything about the boys he thought were cute. As his middle school friends became more and more obsessed with girls, Marco found himself getting quieter and quieter.

There was one ordinary Tuesday night in particular at the beginning of Marco’s freshman year of high school.

“Homecoming is coming up, isn’t it?” Marco father had asked as the three of them sat around the dinner table.

“Yeah,” Marco said. “Jack just asked a girl yesterday.”

“Think you’ll be asking anybody?” his father asked with a smile, nudging Marco’s arm.

“There’s gotta be some lucky girl, right?” said his mother. And Marco couldn’t take it anymore.

“I don’t like girls,” he blurted.

And then there was a long stretch of silence.

His father was the one who finally broke it. “You know that’s okay, don’t you, Marco?”

Marco’s head snapped toward his dad, who was looking at him completely sincerely. “What?”

“Oh, sweetie,” said his mother, putting a hand on Marco’s shoulder, “of course that’s okay.”

And Marco had instantly burst into tears. He wasn’t broken, there was nothing wrong with him. He was okay.

And he and his parents talked about it more, and Marco was finally about to say, to himself and to his parents, that he was gay. And that was okay.

And parents told him that he didn’t _have_ to tell anyone. He was allowed to tell as many or as few people as he wanted, and it was all up to him. He was just supposed to do things at his own pace.

And he did. After a few months of just getting himself fully comfortable with himself, he told his best friend.

This didn’t go as smoothly as it had with his parents.

After Marco had told him, his friend just froze.

“Y-you mean, you like guys?”

Marco nodded, feeling much more hesitant now that he sensed that his friend was uncomfortable.

“You don’t like _me_ , though, right?”

“What? No,” Marco said, immediately shaking his head. “I don’t like _every_ guy.”

His friend nodded, but he could tell his friend didn’t quite believe him. “Um, listen, Marco, I don’t know if... I mean... I have to go.”

And his friend left.

The next day, everyone in school knew. Marco Bodt was gay. And absolutely no one was on his side. That was when Marco was officially silenced.

And he hated it.

Marco hated having to quietly eat lunch in the library because he was too ashamed to sit at a lunch table alone in the cafeteria. He hated that sympathetic look teachers gave him when he mumbled that he would rather do yet another group project on his own, when really he just had no one willing to do it with him. He hated not being able to raise his hand in class because he knew someone behind him would cough the word “fag,” quiet enough that the teacher wouldn’t notice but just loud enough for Marco to hear. Marco was constantly forced to be quiet, and he hated it more than anything.

But he was finally getting better now. Aside from the fraternity incident, he had been generally welcomed at the university. He could walk across campus without anyone whispering, “Hey, it’s the fag with the freckles.” He had finally had people he could talk to. First, he had Connie. Then he had Jean, and subsequently, Armin, too. And Levi came along, and now he even had Erwin and Hanji. He was learning to get his voice back, and not be so afraid to share his opinion. He was undoing the years of staying silent, and gradually, he was finally gaining some self confidence.

But then Monday.

He met Levi for coffee. He had been in a great mood, being able to see his boyfriend before class, being greeted with a kiss, getting to talk to him and making plans for later in the week.

“Morning, Marco!” Erwin had said cheerfully, coming up to Levi and Marco, looking surprisingly chipper for the morning. Levi looked tired and grumpy, but adorably so. “What can I get you?”

“Grande caramel mocha,” Marco said automatically, absentmindedly tracing Levi’s hand with his thumb. He glanced down at their clasped hands, sitting on the table for anyone to see, and felt at peace. _This_ , Marco thought, _is a perfect morning. This is how all mornings should be. This is-_

“Oh, you don’t want that,” Levi said, wrinkling his nose. Marco froze. “The sugar and caffeine in that? You’ll crash hard halfway through your lecture, and you know that’ll be hell.” Levi turned to Erwin. “Bring him my order.”

Erwin looked at Marco like he was waiting for an objection. Marco stayed silent. “Alright then,” Erwin said, heading back for the counter.

“Your order?” Marco asked quietly, trying to keep his tone steady.

“Tea,” Levi answered. “And who knows, Erwin might make it right today. Trust me, it’ll make you feel much better than that caramel whatever.”

Marco tried to keep his face neutral, and he must’ve succeeded, because Levi moved past the moment swiftly, going into some story about who knows what. Marco wasn’t listening. He was just trying desperately to ignore that his previously perfect boyfriend had silenced him.

 _He didn’t mean it like that_ , Marco told himself. _I’m sure he wouldn’t do it again if you just spoke up._

But Marco kept his thoughts to himself.

It was a similar story on Wednesday, when Marco had gone out with Levi for dinner. They had run into Levi’s friend, Petra, and the two of them stood talking for a long time. Marco sat by awkwardly for the longest time before he finally had to make himself look busy and texted Jean.

_From Jean:_   
_just tell him u have a headache and come hang out with us_

Marco glanced up at his boyfriend, who was still ignoring him.

_To Jean:_   
_i cant just lie!_

_From Jean:_   
_y not? cmon, armin might lose to christa at pokemon!_

Marco’s eyes widened at that; Armin losing a Pokémon battle was unheard of.

_From Jean:_   
_christa just called armin a motherfucker. please? u r missing quite a night my friend_

And Marco wanted to go, he _really_ did. But he didn’t. He just sat silent. Still, he was incredibly grateful that he could talk to Jean. Jean didn’t tell him he was being stupid or overreacting or anything; he ended up validating Marco’s feelings by telling him to ditch Levi.

Come to think of it, Jean had ended up fixing the Monday thing, too.

Tuesday, when Jean left Marco coffee outside of his dorm. A grande caramel mocha. Marco knew his first class was earlier than Jean’s that day. Jean would’ve had to get up early to get that coffee. He timed it just right, too, because it was still piping hot when Marco had found it. He had put effort into that coffee. And the message he’d written on it...

_Because you don’t like tea._

He hadn’t signed his name, but he didn’t have to. Jean’s handwriting was identifiable enough. Marco found himself so touched by the gesture that he didn’t even know what to do with himself. He sat through his next lecture just staring at the coffee cup, wondering what on earth he was supposed to do about this. He wanted to tell Jean thank you, but every time he typed out a message, it sounded too lame, like he had thought too much of this stupid cup of coffee. So every time, he deleted it, and never ended up sending a message at all.

But that coffee meant a lot to Marco, and not only because Jean went out of his way to get it for him. The only time Marco had ever told Jean that he didn’t like tea was on their fake date, but Jean still remembered. _Because you don’t like tea._ Jean heard Marco more than anyone.

And he was so willing to hear Marco, too. Marco couldn’t even begin to describe how happy he had felt when Jean first asked to hear how things had gone with Levi, and told him that he didn’t have to censor himself. Marco never had to feel like something was too stupid to say with Jean, or too embarrassing. Jean never met anything he said with awkward responses or uncomfortable looks.

However, none of that stopped him from absolutely refusing to give Jean any details when Connie let slip that Marco spent the night with Levi on Wednesday, after their date. Not that he and Levi had sex, but still... He just couldn’t bring himself to do talk about it.

Even though he was feeling pretty awful about being ignored so long at the beginning of their date, Marco felt a _lot_ better at the end of the night outside of the restaurant, when Levi slowly wrapped his arms around Marco’s waist and asked with smirk if he wanted to spend the night at his place.

They had already decided that it would be a while before they actually had sex. Levi had made it clear at the start of their relationship that, as this was Marco’s first, they should take things slow. Which Marco agreed with. But even if he hadn’t, he didn’t really get any say in the matter. It was all Levi’s decision.

Still, he couldn’t complain. While he wasn’t ready for the big leap yet, he was more than ready for what _had_ happened that night, which was Levi getting him off for the first time.

After the fact, Marco was red-faced and breathing heavily, a shirtless Levi pressing a kiss to Marco’s own bare chest.

“How was it?” Levi asked, his voice deep and beautiful.

And Marco hesitated, the embarrassment building up more and more as the effects of his first non-self-induced orgasm wore off. He wasn’t sure how to respond. Honestly, it was amazing, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what he was supposed to say. How did most people respond in this situation? Was he supposed to be honest? Aloof? Give a rating out of ten?

“Relax, Marco, you don’t have to be so embarrassed,” Levi chuckled, reaching over Marco for the tissues on his nightstand.

“Sorry,” Marco mumbled, his face burning even more. “I just... I’ve never... You know.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Levi purred. “That was your first hand job, wasn’t it?” He chuckled again, some word under his breath that sounded a lot like “precious.”

This didn’t help Marco’s embarrassment, nor did watching Levi clean up Marco’s mess.

“I’m serious, relax,” Levi insisted, throwing the soiled tissues in the trashcan a few feet away. He turned to Marco and rested his head on his chest again. “Breathe.”

And Marco breathed. He breathed in the smell of Levi and took in the warmth of his skin for ages, until Levi’s gentle snores filled the otherwise silent room. It didn’t take long after Levi fell asleep that he rolled away from Marco, sprawling out on his own.

Marco hadn’t been able to explain the nagging feeling that his been building up in his gut, but now, seeing Levi across from him on the bed, it fully surfaced. Marco felt lonely.

Which was absolutely ridiculous. He was literally laying next to his boyfriend, who had just gotten him off. Levi was kind and smart and handsome and...

Intimidating. No matter how much time Marco spent with Levi, he was still just too intimidating. He wasn’t comforted by Levi’s presence; he feared it. Even now, with Levi asleep, Marco was still afraid of moving around too much and waking him up. And Marco couldn’t help but feel belittled.

But there was no way he could tell anyone about it. He wasn’t ready to end the relationship or anything. Not yet, anyway.

That changed a bit after Saturday.

Leaving the coffee shop, the only thing running through Marco’s mind was, _I can’t believe I just said that_.

He had never spoken up to someone before like he just had to Jean’s father. He hadn’t even said anything offensive, just that he ought to be proud of his son, and still, his heart was racing. His hands were shaking, and he felt a bit weak in his knees, but he kept walking, because there was no way he could hold still after that. Marco was so happy. After remaining silent for so long, he’d finally said something on his mind out loud, something that had so much potential to go wrong, and he didn’t screw it up. He didn’t stutter, or ramble, or mess up any words. It had gone perfectly, and better still, it was all in defense of his best friend. It couldn’t have gotten any better than that.

And though Jean’s father didn’t seem to change his mind, the look on Jean’s face after he’d said it... Something in his eyes gave away that he was really touched by what Marco had said, that he was grateful that Marco had stood up for him. That’s what was making Marco’s heart soar most of all, the fact that doing this had made Jean happy, too. Marco had given himself a voice, and it went absolutely perfectly.

Almost.

Marco had an evening planned with Levi that night, and when he showed up to Levi’s plan, he was still practically skipping. Levi definitely noticed the change, but seemed almost annoyed by it.

“What’s gotten into you?” Levi asked with a single raised eyebrow.

“I’m just in a good mood,” Marco said, leaning down to kiss Levi’s cheek.

“Tch,” Levi said, cringing at the unexpected affection. He seemed to only like affection when it was on his own terms. Understandable, but also a bit frustrating when _he_ pulled Marco down for a kiss whenever he wanted. “Any reason?”

And Marco told him the story, telling Levi what he’d said to Jean’s father verbatim. And he waited and kept waiting for Levi’s frown to turn into a smirk, but it never did.

“Assholes like this,” Levi grumbled. “They never change. Trust me, Marco, you might as well have saved your breath.”

And Marco was silenced yet again.

“Y’know, Levi, on second thought,” Marco piped up, surprising himself a little as he continued, “I think I feel a headache coming on. You think we could do this another night?”

“You sure?” Levi asked. “We could just watch a movie here, if you’re not up for anything else.”

Where they would sit. In silence.

“That’s alright,” Marco said. “It’s probably just going to get worse from here.”

The further away from Levi’s Marco got, the more he started panicking. What was he doing? He just lied to his boyfriend. Was he overreacting? Was he just being stupid? Should he have just said something to Levi? Would Levi have gotten mad? Why did he always have to be so afraid Levi was going to get mad? Why did Levi always have to silence him without meaning to? Why wasn’t this just working out? What was Marco doing wrong?

Before Marco knew what he was doing, his phone was out of his pocket and he was dialing Jean’s number, because he couldn’t talk the silence anymore.

“Marco?”

Marco immediately froze at the sound of Jean’s voice, which sounded so panicked itself. Marco could hear Jean's breaths through the phone, rapid and shallow, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Marco's own troubles were immediately forgotten.

They were only pushed back further and further in Marco’s mind when Jean came down from his dorm and they started walking. All that mattered was Jean calming himself down the longer he talked about his childhood and his grandmother, letting out his frustration about his father, until suddenly, Marco looked at him and realized Jean had tears streaming down his face. Marco decided not to say anything, assuming Jean would feel embarrassed.

“And it still happens, Marco,” Jean said, Marco’s heart getting heavier with each word Jean said. “I still have nights where I can’t fucking sleep because I get a bad grade on a paper or I don’t understand my textbook or because I still don’t have a fucking girlfriend or because I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do about this stupid fraternity... And it’s all just so stupid, such _stupid_ little things, and I know I’m just being a big baby, but I just can’t deal with it, and I just can’t stop failing and-”

“Jean?” Marco interrupted, not being able to talk Jean talking about himself like that anymore.

Jean stopped and seemed to finally realize that he had started crying, immediately wiping the tears away with an embarrassed, “Fuck...”

And then he sniffled. It was the absolutely most stupid thing in the world, one little adorable sniffle, and Marco couldn’t stop himself. He pulled Jean into a hug.

“It’s okay,” Marco murmured. “You can cry if you want to, Jean. It’s okay to cry.”

His mom had told him that when they first talked about his sexuality. His father told him that the first time someone had called him “the fag with the freckles.” And now Jean needed to hear it, because he was upset and everyone deserves the right to cry.

~

It didn’t matter how ridiculous Marco was being. He kept getting texts from Jean throughout the day, and he absolutely loved it. He stopped caring about being ridiculous. He stopped caring that he still hadn’t replied to Levi’s text. He got some studying done throughout the day and wrote a paper he had due, but for the most part, that day was focused on Jean’s texts.

~

Monday, after classes, Jean and Marco decided to go get pizza in celebration that Jean’s father was gone, and he wouldn’t have to see him until Thanksgiving in a month.

“Thanks again for yesterday,” Jean said, unlocking the door to his dorm. Armin was out with Eren and Mikasa. “You are seriously a lifesaver.”

“Anytime,” Marco said, warm happiness filling up his chest.

After closing the door behind them and kicking off their shoes, Jean’s phone started ringing.

“It’s Connie,” he said as he went to answer it. Marco set the pizza down on Jean’s desk and took a seat on Jean’s bed.

“Hey, Connie, what’s up? ... You’re serious? You’re making her a mix-tape? Is that even possible? ... Okay, yeah, a CD is close enough, whatever. What do you need my help for? ... Oh, okay, um, let me think... You’re going to put some Stationary Guard on there, right? ... What song? Are you kidding? Dude, if you’re trying to win over any girl, you have to play her Maria by Stationary Guard. ... How the fuck do you not know Maria? You would recognize it if you heard it. It’s the one that goes...”

And then Marco nearly had a stroke, because Jean started singing into the phone. And God, was his singing voice beautiful. Marco just stared, watching Jean sing only a few lines from the song before he stopped.

“Yes, that one. Got it? ... Okay, let me know if you need any other requests. ... Nah, just text me, I’m hanging out with Marco. ... Alright, see you.”

And Jean hung up the phone and went for the pizza as though nothing unusual had happened.

~~~

“Are you kidding me?” Marco asked.

Jean froze. “Huh?”

“You can _sing_?”

Jean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I mean, I’m not the best singer... I’m alright.”

“Dude, I just heard you. You can sing.”

“What’s your point?” Jean said, clearing his throat. He didn’t really want to talk about this anymore. He just wanted to eat pizza and hang out with Marco. Singing was embarrassing.

“You speak French, and you can sing,” Marco said. “That’s not fair. That’s too many things for one person.”

Jean raised his eyebrows as he understood where Marco was coming from, and his mouth slowly curled up into a grin as an idea popped into his mind. “Y’know,” he said slowly, “I can sing _in_ French, too.” He didn’t particularly like singing in front of people, but this... Oh, this was just too good.

Marco’s eye’s widened in horror. “No.”

“ _You are the one, for me, for me, for me, formidable_ ,” Jean began, slow and teasing. Sure it was a love song, but it was the only song with French in it that Jean knew all the words to.

“Jean, stop,” Marco pleaded.

“ _You are my love, very, very, very, véritable_ ,” he continued on, a little louder now.

“Jean, no.”

“ _Et je voudrais pouvoir un jour enfin te le dire!_ ” He’d been quick and clean on the English, but now he was smooth with the French, make it slow, lilting, and wonderfully exaggerated.

“Jean-”

“ _Te l’écrire!_ ”

“Jean, I’m serious, I can’t handle-”

“ _Dans la langue de Shakespeare!_ ”

Marco stopped protesting, instead just listening and watching Jean with a pained expression as Jean sang. His face was getting redder by the moment, and Jean was completely eating it up.

“ _My daisy, daisy, daisy, désirable!_ ” Jean couldn’t help himself and winked at Marco, who immediately buried his face in his hands. Jean immediately crossed the room to him and started trying to pull his hands away from his face as he belted out, “ _Je suis malheureux d’avoir si peu de mots à t’offrir en cadeaux!_ ”

Marco wouldn’t budge, so Jean settled for throwing an arm around Marco. “ _Darling, I love you, love you, darling I want you, et puis c’est à peu près tout! You are the one for me, for me, for me, formidable!_ ”

Marco then got up and tried running for the door, but Jean was not having it. He grabbed Marco’s wrist and used his own momentum against him; Marco swung around and nearly crashed into Jean but stopped just short, blushing like crazy when he realized how close they were. Jean took the opportunity, and used one hand to hold Marco’s and placed the other on the small of Marco’s back. From there, he attempted to lead a flustered Marco in a dance as he sang the next verse.

“ _You are the one for me, for me, for me, formidable!_  
 _But how can you see me, see me, see me? Si minable!_  
 _Je ferais mieux d'aller choisir mon vocabulaire!_  
 _Pour te plaire!_  
 _Dans la langue de Molière!_ ”

“Jean,” Marco squeaked out, barely shuffling along as Jean lead the two of them, but there was no way Jean was stopping now. There was only one verse left, and the mix of French and English was perfect; he couldn’t wait to see how red Marco was going to get when he told him his lips were adorable.

“ _Toi, tes eyes, ton nose, tes lips adorables!_  
 _Tu n'as pas compris tant pis!_  
 _Ne t'en fais pas et viens-t-en dans mes bras!_ ”

It was the home stretch. Jean couldn’t help but get dramatic as he finished the song.

“ _Darling, I love you, love you, darling, I want you!_  
 _Et puis le reste on s'en fout!_  
 _You are the one for me, for me, for me, formidable!_  
 _Je me demande même!_  
 _Pourquoi je t'aime!_ ”

Jean could tell by Marco’s final stage of complete mortification that the one French phrase he had been able to understand was that one, je t’aime. I love you. _You poor bastard_.

“ _Toi qui te moques de moi et de tout_  
 _Avec ton air canaille, canaille, canaille_  
 _How can I love you?_ ”

Jean finally stopped and caught his breath, letting out a few laughs he’d been holding back the entire time. Marco narrowed his eyes, but his face was still burning.

“I hate you.”

“ _C’est faux_ ,” Jean said with a grin. That’s false.

Marco turned his gaze down toward their feet. “You’re pretty good at singing in French,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Jean said, a swell of pride filling his chest. “You’re shit at dancing.”

Marco frowned, his big brown eyes snapping back up to meet Jean's. “Excuse you?”

Jean laughed. “I’m just saying, you- FUCK!”

Any confidence Jean had just built up was knocked away when Marco suddenly reversed their carriage, putting a steady hand on Jean’s back as he dropped him into a flawless, low-to-the-ground dip.

“You were saying?” Marco said. He couldn’t have looked more smug if he tried.

“Shut up,” Jean mumbled. He could feel his own face heating up, because _damn_ , that was smooth. Marco was really strong, too, and-

Suddenly, there was a loud banging at the door. Marco dropped Jean in surprise and Jean fell with a dull thud. “JEAN KIRSCHTEIN, IF YOU DON’T STOP SINGING, I’M GOING TO-”

Jean got up with a groan before shouting, “Alright, Ymir, I get it! I’m done!”

Marco looked absolutely horrified that he’d dropped Jean. “I am so sorry, I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jean interrupted, rubbing his back where he’d hit the ground. “Wasn’t a far drop anyway, that was a _nice_ dip.”

Marco was suddenly fighting back a smile, and that was almost more satisfying than his embarrassment at being sung a French love song. Almost. “Th-thanks.”

Then the door swung open and Armin stepped in, and Jean felt his face go red again. He took a step back from Marco, even though they hadn’t been particularly close.

“Hey, guys,” Armin said cheerfully.

“Whoa, do I smell pizza?”

Jean clenched his fists at his side as Eren fucking Jaeger stepped into their dorm room, looking for the source of the smell.

“Not for you,” Jean snapped.

Eren returned Jean’s glare. “Nice to see you too.”

“Oh, by the way,” Armin piped up, handing Eren some notes he must’ve been letting him borrow. “Mikasa’s throwing a party next week, and-”

“Not just any party,” Eren said, jokingly punching Armin’s shoulder. “ _Your_ birthday party.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Armin said, looking a little embarrassed as he rubbed his shoulder, “she told me to invite you two.”

Jean’s eyebrows shot up. “Mikasa wants me to come?”

Eren scowled. “What, you think she likes you or something?”

“Shut up, Jaeger,” Jean shot back.

“She’s inviting you because you’re friends with Armin,” Eren said, heading for the door. “Don’t think it means anything special, jackass.”

Armin sighed. “He’s just really protective about Mikasa, okay? Don’t take it personally,” he said before following Eren out the door.

“Man, I fucking hate that guy,” Jean growled.

“Don’t worry about him,” Marco said. “Let’s just eat.”

And Jean did, though his mind was still preoccupied by the fact that Mikasa had wanted him to come to a party. And anger at fucking Eren Jaeger. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Marco backstory, and Jean can SING.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think. I feel like I struggle more with Marco's narrative than Jean's sometimes…
> 
> Also there is a PARTY next chapter, and let me tell you, I am so darn excited.
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos and everything, every single one means the world to me.


	11. Fucking Jaeger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is uncomfortable and Mikasa makes cupcakes.

When Jean woke up that morning, he felt...

Uncomfortable.

Why was it so hot? Was there something wrong with the heating? Did the weather suddenly change its mind and decide it was summer again? Did Armin finally go over the edge and buy that special heater for his plants? Whatever the reason, Jean had never woken up so uncomfortably damp with sweat before.

He felt so tired, too... He didn’t even move because his muscles all just felt so thoroughly exhausted; he just wanted to sink into the mattress and sleep for a thousand more years.

And on top of that, the longer he was awake, the more and more his head started throbbing. He definitely had a hangover. _What the hell happened last night?_

He couldn’t have been that drunk, or he’d already be in the bathroom puking his guts out. His hangovers were pretty unforgiving. Still, Jean’s mental processes were already slow moving this early in the morning, and the headache was not helping him remember what he’d been doing last night.

 _Alright, so I was drunk. Where could I have been drinking?_ A party.

Bingo. Armin’s birthday.

 _Wait, wait, wait, there wasn’t any alcohol at Armin’s party..._ Connie had offered to bring some, but Armin had refused, terrified that they would all get caught drinking underage. At a private party, off-campus. Armin was chill most of the time, but whenever it came to the slightest chance of getting in trouble, he immediately got paranoid.

So he had gone to Armin’s party, and somehow got drunk. _What the hell happened?_

Jean sighed in frustration and stretched a little, and that’s when he felt it. Skin. Against his skin. That wasn’t his own skin.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

Jean’s eyes snapped opened. He was facing the wall, and saw from the lack of posters that he wasn’t even in his own room. Fuck, this wasn’t even his _building_. Which building had fucking gray walls? He knew he had seen gray walls in someone’s dorm before... Wait... could it have been...?

_Holy shit, did I sleep with Mikasa last night?_

Jean pushed himself to remember (fuck, maybe he’d been drunker than he thought...), but... No, it wasn’t Mikasa, it couldn’t have been... _Why couldn’t it have been?_ He couldn’t remember that either.

Then the person next to him started moving, and Jean could tell they were waking up. Fuck, who is she?

Then they let out a soft groan, low and sleepy and most definitely _male_ , and all of Jean’s memories immediately came flooding back. _Oh, no. Oh, no, oh, no, oh, fuck, no. Fuck, no, this is not fucking happening to me..._

They stopped moving, and Jean could feel their eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. _Here it comes. My life is fucking over. Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

“Jean?”

~~~

Last night, the night of Armin’s party, had been one of the worst nights of Marco’s life.

He had already been having a terrible week, dealing with Jean’s constant whining about Mikasa. “If she invited me to the party, does it mean she likes me?” “Do you think something’s gonna happen between us?” “What if the party is excuse to see me?”

_Yes, because everything revolves around you, Jean Kirschtein. It has nothing to do with the fact that it’s Armin’s birthday._

And even ignoring any annoyance caused by how stupid Jean’s concerns were, it was still awful, having the boy he was crazy about go on and on about the girl he was obsessed with. A friendly reminder from the universe that Jean Kirschtein is straight.

And Marco was stupid enough to think that they’d had a moment.

Christa had a car, and was nice enough to offer Jean and Marco a ride to the party, along with her and Ymir. Since Christa and Ymir lived next door to Jean, they decided to meet up at his place. And when Marco arrived to meet him...

He couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Jean snapped as Marco struggled to get ahold of himself, leaning against the doorframe as he took in Jean’s appearance.

“I’m sorry,” Marco wheezed out as he finally got himself to stop laughing. Jean stepped out of the way as Marco entered his dorm. “Just... what are you so dressed up for?”

Jean groaned. “What, it’s too much, isn’t it?” he asked. That was an understatement. The party was completely casual; Armin had _insisted_ that no one so anything fancy for him. He just wanted people to have a nice time. Jean, however, seemed to have completely disregarded this. He had a gray button-down shirt tucked into nice black slacks. He had even put on a tie, bless his heart.

“I mean, it’s, um...” Marco trailed off, struggling to think of anything that wouldn’t make him start laughing again.

“Fuck it. I look like a goddamn middle schooler at his first dance.”

“ _That’s_ what it is!” Marco gasped. Jean glared and Marco muttered an apology.

“Alright. How do I fix it?”

“Well, you should lose the pants,” Marco laughed.

Jean grinned, raising an eyebrow suggestively. “So eager, Marco.”

Marco immediately stopped laughing, his face going red.

Jean grinned and went to his dresser, pawing around until he pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans.

“These better?” he asked.

Marco nodded. “Much.”

“Cool,” Jean said, going to undo his belt.

Marco’s face went even redder. “W-wait, what are you doing?”

“Changing?” Jean said as though it were obvious as he stepped out of his slacks. Marco tried desperately to keep his eyes on Jean’s face, and not on his black boxer-briefs. His face was getting hotter by the second.

“A-and you’re okay doing that in front of me?” Marco asked, annoyed that Jean was taking his sweet time, standing in his underwear and folding his slacks up neatly before tucking them away in a drawer.

“You’re gay, not a pervert,” Jean said, stopping to look at Marco in the eye. _For the love of God, please just put some pants on._ Marco wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. “You really think I expect you to pull something?”

“Sorry, I was just being stupid,” Marco mumbled.

“You’re not being stupid,” Jean said, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t want you to feel stupid. I just want you to understand that, y’know, you’re my best friend. I don’t ever feel uncomfortable around you.”

That actually touched Marco so much that he momentarily forgot his plight of standing only a few feet away from a pants-less Jean. Then he accidentally glanced down and got flustered all over again.

Once Jean finally had his jeans pulled up and buckled, he turned to Marco and asked, “Alright, what else?”

“Take off the tie,” Marco said. “And roll up your sleeves a little. G-girls like that.” _And me. Most definitely me._

As though Jean could read his mind, he smirked at that last part, like he knew that Marco liked it, too. Although, there was no way Jean could read Marco’s mind. If he could, he might change his mind about saying Marco wasn’t a pervert.

“Okay, how do I look?” Jean asked after a minute, adjusting the roll on his sleep where it was a little tight on his forearm.

The truth was that he looked _fantastic_. He looked long and lean and, holy shit, God bless tight pants. “G-good,” Marco said. “Really good. Oh, you should probably unbutton your shirt a little, though, since you got rid of the tie,” Marco said, just now noticing that his shirt was still buttoned up to his throat. Without even thinking about it, Marco just walked right up to Jean and started unbuttoning it for him.

Marco realized what he was doing the second his fingers touched Jean’s chest, but it was too late; he couldn’t pull his hands away in horror now. Not that touching Jean’s chest was horrible. Quite the contrary. He wanted nothing more than to run his hands over the smooth fabric of Jean’s shirt and memorize the feeling of Jean underneath, every bone and muscle. He wanted nothing more than to continue unbuttoning Jean’s shirt past the top two before sliding the shirt smoothly off of his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to kiss Jean’s neck as his fingers graced that, too, as he adjusted Jean’s collar. But he managed to restrain himself.

And just once, Marco dared to look Jean in the eye, only to realize that they were a lot closer than Marco had realized. Jean was bright red, his eyes were wide, and he didn’t seem to be breathing. Marco hesitated for a moment, accidentally letting his hand linger on Jean’s skin for just a moment too long and...

_Wait a second._

_Did he just look at my lips?_

“Sorry,” Marco immediately said, taking a step back from Jean. _I must have been seeing things. He probably just looked down, that doesn’t necessarily mean my lips. And even if he did, it didn’t mean anything. Jean’s straight. Remember, Marco? That’s kind of an important detail._

“S’fine,” Jean mumbled, clearing his throat. “So, um, should we go? Christa and Ymir are probably waiting for us.”

“Yeah,” Marco said lamely. He was panicking too much internally to say anything else. _Stop over thinking the stupid tiny details. You’re started to act like Jean._

~

They actually ended up having to wait for the girls a little longer. Christa was already ready to go (Marco couldn’t help but notice, to his annoyance, that Jean was checking her out), but Ymir was still in the bathroom, apparently not bothering to get ready until the last minute.

“ _Christa, where do you keep the eyelash stuff?_ ”

“Ymir, you are not borrowing my mascara! That is not hygienic!”

“Who cares?”

“I care!”

“Fuck it, you’re getting my eye germs.”

“ _Ymir!_ ”

This went on for about ten minutes before Ymir finally emerged. Jean checked her out, too. The one moment Marco had been holding onto was quickly slipping away.

It was another ten minutes before Christa was parking in the lot in front of Reiner and Bertholdt’s building, and every second, Jean started getting more and more nervous, tapping his foot or drumming his fingers on his thighs. He didn’t have to say anything; Marco knew it was because of Mikasa.

By the time they arrived at Reiner and Bertholdt’s door, Jean looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Jean, you need to calm down,” Marco said, forcing a laugh to try and lighten the mood. “Just don’t worry about it. If something happens tonight, it happens. You don’t need to worry about _making_ it happen. Just... if nothing happens, it’ll be you and me, right? We can still hang out, just the two of us.”

Jean actually seemed to calm down at that, and even smiled a little. “Right. You and me.”

“Yeah, that’s great, are either of you going to knock?” Ymir snapped. Jean shot her a dirty look before knocking on the door. Despite what he’d just said about relaxing, Jean prepared himself with some sort of attempt at a charming smile as the door started opening, clearly expecting Mikasa. The smile immediately fell into deep annoyance when Mikasa’s brother answered the door.

“Ymir! Christa!” he said cheerfully. “And you’re Marco, right? It’s nice to meet you!”

“Y-you, too,” Marco said, surprised how friendly Eren was, considering he had heard nothing but bad things from Jean.

Eren turned his attention to Jean and his friendly smile fell away. “Horse face.” _There it is._

“Shut up, Jaeger,” Jean snapped. “Where’s Mikasa?”

Marco had to refrain from sighing.

“She’s in the kitchen with Annie,” Eren answered coolly, narrowing his eyes. “They’re making Armin cupcakes. She’s got better things to do tonight than you.”

“Sick way to talk about your sister, man,” Jean said, pushing past Eren. Marco shrugged apologetically as he followed Jean inside.

“Can you just forget about Mikasa for _five minutes_?” Marco sighed as he took off his jacket and added it to the pile on a chair near the door. “What did I _just_ say?”

“C’mon, Marco, that’s easy for you to say,” Jean groaned. “You have Levi. I have to try if I wanna get laid.”

Marco turned red but managed to keep his composure for the most part as he said, “You only have to try because the person you’re trying to get laid with is _Mikasa_. If you went for someone else, I’m sure you’d have better luck.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean said. “Mikasa’s perfect. She’s the only one I’m interested in.”

_Ouch._

Marco nodded, staying quiet for a moment before announcing that he was going to go get a drink.

“I’ll go with-”

“That’s okay,” Marco interrupted. “I’ll grab you a beer. I’ll be right back.”

The kitchen was empty except for Mikasa and Annie, and it was clear from the moment Marco entered the room that things were a bit different than he’d previously thought.

Different in that Mikasa was kissing away a spot of frosting from the tip of Annie’s nose.

_Oh, God. What am I going to tell Jean?_

“Hey,” Annie snapped the second she realized Marco was there. Mikasa turned and looked threateningly at him as well.

“I-I’m sorry,” Marco stammered, just wanting to disappear off the face of the earth. “I didn’t... I...”

“You’re Marco, right?” Mikasa asked. “You’re friends with Jean.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Marco responded. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-”

“Marco,” Annie said, stopping Marco from turning and leaving. “You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw, alright?”

“I-I won’t tell a soul,” Marco immediately said. He narrowly stopped himself from crossing his heart for emphasis.

“We’re just keeping things quiet while we figure things out, okay?” Mikasa said. “I’m sure _you_ understand that it’s not exactly easy to tell people.”

“No, I completely understand,” Marco said. “I seriously won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks,” Mikasa said. “Did you want something, or...?”

“Oh, right,” Marco said, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts. “Drinks?”

“All we have is soda,” Annie grumbled. “Armin thought if we had any beer, cops would immediately swarm the place and take us to prison.”

“Soda sounds fine,” Marco said.

“Help yourself, it’s all in the fridge,” Mikasa said.

“Thanks.”

As Marco debated between Coke and root beer, he heard the music out in the living room cut out before being replaced by some song he didn’t know, but definitely recognized it from one of the weird, obscure bands Jean and Connie were crazy about.

“It’s Maria!” Mikasa said. “By Stationary Guard!” _That was the one_.

Annie scoffed. “You listen to Stationary Guard?”

“You’re damn right I listen to Stationary Guard, they’re awesome. Not as good as Survey Corps, but still good.”

“Whatever you say,” Annie said, licking batter off of a spoon. “The Military Police is where it’s at.”

“ _What_?” Mikasa gasped. “The Military Police is  _awful_.”

“You want to talk awful? How about _Survey Corps_.”

“Survey Corps is awesome, okay? Screw you.”

“You know what? Hey, Marco,” Annie called over. Marco almost hit his head as he immediately straightened up. “Who’s better - The Military Police or Survey Corps?”

“I-I don’t know,” Marco admitted. “I’ve never listened to either of them.” _Maybe they aren’t obscure and I just don’t know anything._

“Listen to them both and get back to us,” Mikasa said. “Especially Survey Corps. ‘Outside the Walls’ is their best album.”

Annie coughed, poorly disguising the word, “ _Terrible_.”

Mikasa just bumped her hip into Annie. “Shut up and make the damn cupcakes.”

With a Coke for himself and a Mountain Dew for Jean, Marco quickly slipped out of the kitchen, letting out a sigh of relief getting out of that situation.

“Jeez, man, what took you so long?” Jean asked as he accepted his soda from Marco.

“You’re welcome,” Marco responded sarcastically. “I was just talking to Mikasa and Annie.”

“Oh yeah?” Jean asked, trying not to seem too eager.

“She didn’t talk about you, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Marco said, taking a sip of his drink to avoid spilling the truth. _Damn, maybe I shouldn’t have sworn to secrecy..._

“Oh.”

“ _Jean_ ,” Marco whined. _Please, let’s just have fun. Get over Mikasa. Not just for my sake anymore, but for yours._

“I know, I know,” Jean grumbled. _No, you don’t._ “You and me. We’re going to have fun tonight.”

Marco couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “Good.”

From there, Jean actually made an effort to have fun with Marco, and the party only improved. They ended up joining the conversation at the couch, where Reiner was loudly telling a hilarious story about Bertholdt once getting kicked out of a supermarket. Bertholdt sat by with his bright red face in his hands. Soon enough, everyone was gathered around to listen.

Well, almost everyone...

“Is Mikasa ever going to come out of the kitchen?” Ymir asked after Reiner finished his story and everyone’s laughter finally died down. “She’s been in there all night.”

“Annie’s helping her with cupcakes,” Marco said in explanation, hoping that would be enough to get people to stop talking about it.

“How long does it take to make cupcakes?” Reiner asked. “They’ve been in there for forever.”

“I’ll go check on them,” Eren offered, getting up from the couch and heading for the kitchen. I have a bad feeling about this.

No one paid him much attention except for Marco, starting up some new conversation until there was a loud, _“HOLY SHIT!”_ from the kitchen. _Crap._

“Eren-”

“Holy _shit_!”

“Eren, stop-”

Everyone turned and looked as Eren came back into the room looking absolutely horrified. Mikasa was close behind, her facial expression neutral but her face bright red. Annie was close behind, simply glaring at Eren.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Eren said. “You and _Annie_?”

Marco saw Jean freeze out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait, what’s happening?” Reiner asked, voicing the question everyone else was thinking.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s happening! I just walked in on those two making out in the kitchen!” Eren said, ignoring Mikasa’s attempts to get him to shut up.

Marco felt Jean tense up next to him. He looked over and saw Jean staring at Mikasa with wide eyes, his jaw slack.

_I should’ve told him...Oh, God, I really should’ve told him, what have I done?_

“How long has this been going on anyway?” Eren demanded.

“Since, like, a week after we moved into the dorms,” Annie said flatly.

Marco felt himself go red, knowing the same thought was going through his and Jean’s mind: Mikasa and Annie were seeing each other before Jean and Mikasa had even met. He was doomed from the start.

“That long?!” shouted Eren. “And no one else knew about it?”

“Well, Marco found out, like, an hour ago, but other than that, no.”

Jean’s head immediately snapped to look at Marco. Marco refused to make eye contact out of pure shame. _Oh, God, oh, God, oh God._

“You _knew_?” Jean asked angrily.

Marco turned to look at him. He’d expected Jean to be upset with him. He’d expected Jean to be hurt. He hadn’t expected _anger_ like this.

“N-not that long,” Marco squeaked out, feeling terribly small under Jean’s glare, which had never been directed at him like this before.

“You knew and you didn’t _tell me_?”

“I didn’t know what to say,” Marco admitted, his throat starting to feel tight. Oh, no. We are not crying. That is not going to happen.

“How about, ‘Hey, Jean, that girl you’re in love with is a lesbian.’ Or was that too difficult?”

Marco couldn’t tell whether it was the venom in Jean’s voice or the fact that he’d just said he was in love with Mikasa that made his heart shatter.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, Marco, you knew how much I liked Mikasa! Why didn’t you say anything?” Jean snapped.

“I promised them I wouldn’t,” Marco said, trying harder than ever not to cry. “I didn’t know what to do, Jean.” Marco swallowed. “S-stop being such a jerk about it.”

“ _I’m_ being a jerk?” Jean snapped. “You could have at least given me a heads up. What kind of a friend are you?”

Marco froze. That was it, he couldn’t deal with this anymore. He stood up and headed for the door.

“Whoa, Marco, where are you going?” Connie asked. Marco looked back at the couch, at everyone except for Jean (and Mikasa and Eren, who were still arguing), and saw they all looked confused at his sudden departure. They thankfully hadn’t been paying his and Jean’s conversation any attention.

“I’m not feeling well,” Marco said honestly. “I’m just gonna head out.”

This was met with protests from everyone in the group (minus Jean), which was touching (and incredibly painful).

“Thanks, you guys,” Marco said to Reiner and Bertholdt. “It was really nice of you guys to have everyone.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” Reiner said, looking a little concerned for Marco. “You sure you don’t want to stay?”

“I’m sure,” Marco said.

“Do you need me to drive you back to campus?” Christa asked, started to stand up.

Marco immediately waved her off. “Thank you, but I’ll just call a cab.”

Marco left without another word to anyone. He was barely keeping himself together, and as soon as the door closed behind him, he couldn’t stop the tears anymore. He brushed them off quickly with the back of his hand as he headed for the elevator.

_“What kind of a friend are you?”_

Marco clenched his jaw. _How about the kind of friend that put up with you whining about Mikasa all week?_

_How about the kind of friend that made himself available all day last weekend so you could text him your problems?_

_How about the kind of friend that let you cry on his shoulder when you were upset?_

_How about the kind of friend that forgives you after you pretended to go out with me and completely fucking humiliated me?_

By the time the elevator arrived at the ground floor, Marco wasn’t even holding back tears anymore. _What kind of a friend you?_ Fuck that. Fuck Jean Kirschtein. How fucking dare he say that? What the fuck has Jean ever done for Marco? Apologize? Tell him he’s not stupid? Sing him some shitty song in French? But no, Marco fucks up once and he’s the terrible friend, and... just...

“Fuck,” Marco grumbled to himself, storming out of the apartment building in a rage. It was dark out, the streets dimly lit with bright yellow light from street lamps. It had started raining lightly, too.

Ugh, you know what? Fuck calling a cab. Marco pulled out his phone and dialed a different number.

“Marco?” came Levi’s voice.

“Are you busy?”

“No, why? I thought you had a party or some shit.”

“Yeah, I did. Come pick me up.”

“What? Why?”

“I want you,” Marco said. “I can’t stop fucking thinking about you, and I want you. Now.”

To be perfectly honest, Marco had no idea why he was calling Levi for this right now. What was fucking Levi going to solve? It’s not like Jean was going to get jealous or anything. _Why would I even want Jean to be jealous? I don’t even fucking want Jean anymore. Fuck him._

Levi hesitated. “Look, Marco, that’s great and all, but I thought we agreed-”

“No, we fucking didn’t,” Marco snapped. “We didn’t agree. You said. But I don’t agree anymore.”

“Are you sure about this, Marco?”

“Completely.”

“...Alright. Give me the address, I’ll be there in a few.”

Marco waited out in the rain for Levi, not giving a shit about how cold it was. He just stood on the sidewalk, his fists clenched at his sides as he fumed about that fucking Jean Kirschtein.

Before Marco knew it, Levi was pulling up to the sidewalk in his car. Marco slide into the passenger seat and, without any hesitation, leaned across the center console and pressed his lips to Levi’s.

“Mm,” Levi hummed, and Marco pulled away. “Slow down, Marco, what’re you in such a big hurry for?”

Marco finally hesitated. He had absolutely no good answer to this question.

Levi just smirked and shook his head. “Try and keep it in your pants until we get back to my place, okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

The drive back to Levi’s was quiet. Marco was too busy finally doubting himself. _Fuck, what have I just gotten myself into?_ Levi would understand if he said he’d changed his mind, right? _God, why did I have to come on so strong in the first place?_

“You know, you’re welcome to change your mind at any time,” Levi said after a while.

And Marco almost immediately took the chance. But then he saw Levi’s place out of the window. The frat house. Practically a gleaming monument to Jean Kirschtein’s fuckery.

_What kind of a friend are you?_

“I’m not changing my mind,” Marco insisted.

When they got to Levi’s room and the door had been locked behind them, Marco immediately started kissing him, and Levi quickly reciprocated the rough, aggressive kissing style. He unzipped Marco’s jacket and pushed it off of his shoulders before running his hands over Marco’s chest, feeling him through the fabric of Marco’s T-shirt.

It only took a short while of making out with Levi for Jean to be completely wiped from Marco’s mind. Marco’s anger had been completely replaced with lust.

“Ow,” Levi grumbled, pulling away suddenly. It took Marco a moment to realize that he’d bitten Levi, a red mark left on his skin from Marco’s teeth. So maybe his anger wasn’t completely gone.

“O-oh, my God, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Marco, relax,” Levi interrupted quickly. “I never said it was a bad thing.”

Marco nodded slightly before tentatively leaning in again. He’d gotten shy again, but Levi’s tongue in his mouth quickly fixed that. It wasn’t long before he was grabbing Levi’s hips with enough force to bruise, gasping as Levi threaded his fingers through Marco’s hair and pulled his head back just enough to keep Levi’s lips out of reach.

“Strip,” Levi commanded, “and get on the bed.”

~

It was only two hours later that Marco lying in his own bed again, alone.

He’d been curled up against Levi when Levi’s phone rang. He felt sweaty and sticky and a little gross on the outside, but he'd felt more safe and happy with Levi at that moment than he had their entire relationship.

“Do you mind?” Levi asked, his voice low and sleepy.

Marco smiled to himself, still recalling that voice moaning his name. “Not at all,” he said.

Levi accepted the call and answered with a grumbled, “Hello?” Then he sat up a little, propping himself up on his elbow. “Petra? ... Petra, slow down, I can’t... ... You’re joking. You two really...? ... Calm down, I’ll be there in... Actually, Petra, can I call you back? This, uh, may not be the best time.”

“What’s up?” Marco asked once Levi had hung up the phone.

“You remember my friend, Petra, right?”

 _The girl you ignored me for for like half of our date last week?_ Marco thought to himself. Not that he could even really be upset with her, considering how nice she was. “Yeah, I do.”

“I told you she had a boyfriend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, they’ve been dating for forever. I think it’s been, what, fucking two years now? Anyway, they just broke up and she’s... I don’t know, Marco, she sounds like a mess right now.”

Marco sat up so he could look Levi in the face and... he saw it.

“Go,” Marco said. “It sounds like she needs you right now.”

“Really? Marco, you don’t have to-”

“No, really, it’s fine,” Marco said, forcing a smile. “I... I understand.”

And Marco did understand. He understood perfectly what this meant.

That didn’t stop him from feeling so completely empty inside, alone back in his dorm. Not even Connie was there. He couldn’t even text Jean anymore. He was alone.

~~~

Back at the party, Jean knew he had royally fucked up.

What kind of a friend are you?

Why the fuck had he said that? _“What kind of a friend are you?”_ Marco was the best goddamn friend he’d ever had. Marco didn’t deserve this shit. Marco deserved the world. And Jean couldn’t seem to stop fucking everything up.

Watching Marco leave... He wasn’t even upset about Mikasa anymore. How could he be? He’d just fucked up again. He _knew_ Marco was trying not to cry as he left, he knew how Marco worked. He’d made Marco cry again because he was petty and jealous and disgusting and, once again, the worst human being on the planet.

Jean didn’t stay long after that, but he was barely out the door when Eren came running after him.

“Hey,” he said, “you... I mean... This is crazy, right? It’s not just me?”

Jean sighed. “It’s their deal, Jaeger, I don’t know-”

“No, I mean, it’s... I don’t care that they’re together. I’m just really surprised, okay? And everyone is acting like I’m insane because I’m surprised. But it’s not just me, right? You were surprised, too, right?”

Jean just stood staring for a moment, because this was the first time Eren had been anything other than insufferable. _Fucking Jaeger._

“Yeah, I was surprised,” Jean admitted. “See you around.”

Before he took even another step forward, Eren grabbed his arm. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m just not in the mood to stick around,” Jean snapped. “What do you even care for?”

“I... I need a drink.”

Whatever Jean had been expecting Eren to say, it wasn’t that. “Huh?”

“I need a drink. I have some beer back at my dorm.”

Jean raised an eyebrow. The way Eren had said it had made it sound like an offer. “Are you seriously inviting me to drink with you?”

“I know we don’t really get along or whatever, but... I don’t know, everyone else thinks I’m crazy. And you can’t tell me you’re not upset or anything. I mean, you liked Mikasa, right?”

Oh. Mikasa. Right. That’s why he was supposed to be upset.

In the end, it was remembering the look on Marco’s face that made Jean agree to go to Eren’s. It also made Jean drink more than he should have. That ended up making Jean feel guiltier and lonelier than ever, and _that_ was what made him kiss back when Eren leaned across his bed and pressed his lips sloppily against Jean's.

And that’s why Jean was waking up with a hangover in Eren’s bed. Naked. Next to Eren himself.

“Get the fuck out of my bed, Kirschtein.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> …Well?
> 
> I hope you all liked this chapter, because as excited as I was for it, it was darn hard to write.
> 
> Thank you for the all the lovely comments!
> 
> ((also if you're not following me on tumblr, why not?? you can send me asks so we can talk about these two losers and be best friends and stuff! plus i always make a post when i update this so if that interests u?? i'm just at melissawritesstuff.tumblr.com))
> 
> I love you all and I will keep the updates coming as quickly as I can!


	12. The Most Natural Thing In The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is not forgiven and Marco gets another date.

“Dude, you are so fucking gay for Marco,” Eren laughed before hiccuping a little.

“The fuck’re you talkin’ about?” Jean asked, kicking Eren with his foot. The two of them were sitting on the floor facing each other, with Eren leaning against his own bed and Jean leaning against the empty bed meant to house a roommate who had never shown up. As much as Jean liked Armin, he couldn’t help but be jealous that Eren lived alone.

“I mean, I asked you back here so we could vent about Mikasa,” Eren said, downing the rest of his beer before cracking open another can. “And you just keep talking about Marco.”

“Hey, I put that guy through a lot of shit and I feel bad about it,” Jean snapped. “That doesn’t mean I’m in love with him.”

Eren just shrugged in a whatever-you-say-man sort of way that pissed Jean off even more before he chugged some more of his beer. While Eren was showing more of the obvious signs of being drunk, Jean was definitely feeling it, too, and was slowing down a little on the alcohol. Eren, it seemed, was still moving full-speed ahead.

“What’s your deal, anyway?” Eren asked. “Like, _could_ you be gay for Marco?”

“Nope.”

“Seriously? You’re completely straight?”

“Yup.”

“I call bullshit.”

Jean glared. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because you remind me of how I used to be,” Eren said. “And I used to think _I_ was straight.”

Jean froze. “Wait, what are you?”

“A fucking alien.”

“You know what I meant, shithead.”

Eren grinned. “Pansexual.”

Jean raised his eyebrows. “Pansexual?”

“What, don’t know what it means?”

Jean was about to say yes, of course he knew what pansexual meant, but... well, he didn’t. And he was curious. “No, I don’t.”

Eren looked so smug right then that Jean seriously considered punching him in the face, but he let Eren explain. “It pretty much means I’m attracted to people regardless of gender.”

“Oh, really? That’s awesome.”

Eren cocked his head, looking confused. “You think?”

“Yeah, like, just anyone who’s hot, you can go for. You’re fucking lucky, dude.”

“Yeah, I’d be lucky if everyone hot also wanted _me_. Too many goddamn straight boys,” Eren grumbled. “And speaking of straight boys, are you really sure you are one?”

“Jesus Christ, Jaeger, why don’t you believe me?”

“Well, I mean, first you wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Marco, and now, I can’t help but be curious... Who do you think is hot that you can’t go for?”

“Huh?”

“That’s what you just said, ‘anyone who’s hot, you can go for.’ I sense deeper meaning, mi amigo.”

“Shut up and drink, Jaeger,” Jean mumbled.

“C’mon, Kirschtein,” Eren whined.

Jean let out a frustrated groan. “What do you _want_ me to say?”

“Just get hella honest, Jean. You know you want to.”

“I mean, it’s not any different from any other guy!” Jean insisted. “It’s like, you look at a guy, and think, ‘yeah, he’s hot,’ so then you panic and think, ‘shit, does this mean I’m gay?’ But then you realize that literally every guy goes through that panic and it’s just normal to be able to _notice_ people are hot and it doesn’t mean anything.”

Eren nodded. “Well, first off, I’d appreciate if you didn’t use ‘straight’ and ‘normal’ like they mean the same thing.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“And second, I would like to point out that I used to think that exact same thing. But it turns out my questionably gay thoughts were a lot gayer than other boys’. And the more I let me be honest with myself, the more I realized that yeah, there were a lot of boys I really wanted to fuck. And girls, too. So I googled it, and bam. I found all this shit on pansexuality and it was a goddamn miracle.”

“And you think the same thing’s gonna happen to me?”

“Not necessarily. I’m just trying to make sure you’re being honest with yourself, because I sure as fuck wish someone would’ve told me before what I’m telling you now.”

“Eren, I have literally _made out_ with a guy before. I don’t need to do any soul-searching to realize that I’m not gay.”

Eren immediately sat up straighter in interest. “You have?”

_Shit._

Well, of course, Eren wasn’t going to shut up until Jean elaborated, so he was forced to tell Eren the whole story about Marco and the fraternity. He just conveniently left out that it was Marco that he’d made out with.

But to Jean’s annoyance, Eren just laughed. “Dude, that doesn’t prove _anything_.”

“What? Why the fuck not? I had a dude’s tongue in my mouth, and it was gross. What more do you want?”

“Jean, that was literally the least sexy situation you could have possibly been in. You really think that you can get an accurate read when you were as stressed out as you were?”

Jean opened his mouth to retaliate, but no words came out. He had never thought of it like that.

“Look, it’s still possible that I am entirely wrong about you and you really are straight. But like, are _you_ entirely convinced?”

He had been until _now_. _Jesus Christ, Eren._

Eren sighed. “Alright, Jean. I think you’re ready for The Test.”

~

The Test began with them sitting cross-legged on Eren’s bed facing each other.

“I’m telling you, Jean, this is a fool-proof method,” Eren said. “This test from me alone has proved Bertholdt’s bisexuality, Ymir’s homosexuality, and Armin’s heterosexuality.”

“So you’re just saying two out of three of your test subjects just didn’t want to fuck you?”

“Shut the _fuck_ up, Kirschtein. Okay, before we start, we need to confirm one thing.”

“What?”

“I’m an attractive guy, right?”

“ _What_?”

“If you don’t even think I’m attractive in a heterosexual, I-would-if-I-was-gay way, then this is all pointless. So, do you think I’m attractive?”

 _Fucking hell._ “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

“Say it...”

“Jaeger, I swear-”

“Just fucking say it.”

“You’re attractive. Happy?”

“Very,” Eren practically purred. _Smug asshole._ “Alright, this is how this is going to work: I’m going to do something, just one tiny move at a time, giving you as much time as you need. And as soon as you want me to stop, I’ll stop. Simple enough?”

Jean nodded.

“Alright. Here we go.”

Eren started by adjusting the way he sat, unfolding his legs and moving so he was sitting on his knees instead.

“Good?”

“Yeah, fine, you didn’t even do anything,” Jean snapped.

“Alright then.” Eren sat up and took a step forward on his knee toward Jean.

“W-whoa, wait, what are you doing?”

Eren raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to stop?”

Jean forced himself to relax. “Just keep going.”

Eren nodded and moved closer to Jean again, waiting for an objection before continuing to move closer. They hadn’t been that far to begin with, but Jean’s heart rate started increasingly rapidly, pounding in his chest by the time Eren’s legs were touching his.

Eren then slowly reached forward and touched Jean’s shoulder. When Jean didn’t object, he moved it slowly towards Jean’s neck, and the steady movement of his warm hand sent a shiver down Jean’s spine.

_Well, that was weird._

Eren’s hand stopped once it was cupping Jean’s neck, his palm rough and calloused against the sensitive skin.

“Still good?”

“Mm,” Jean hummed noncommittally, not wanting to admit that it actually felt really nice. He knew somewhere in him that if he wasn’t drunk that he would be punching Eren in the face right about now, but now... Why not? Why not let Eren touch his neck? It felt good.

Eren’s other hand found Jean’s waist, which also felt surprisingly good. That hand slowly moved down Jean’s hip, and Jean found himself holding his breath as Eren’s hand hesitated just above the waistline of his jeans. He kept moving, though, and his hand came to rest way north on Jean’s thigh.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jean breathed before remembering that he was trying to act indifferent. _Fuck._

Eren smirked before leaning in, resting his forehead against Jean’s but keeping his lips just far enough away that Jean would have to lean the rest of the way himself.

“Your move, Kirschtein,” Eren muttered. Jean could feel his breathe on his skin and oh, fuck, was that hot...

And Jean didn’t know what to do.

On one hand, Eren’s hands felt great where they were. He didn’t feel at all uncomfortable having Eren so close. And the more he let himself imagine it happening, the more he accepted that maybe he really did wish that Eren would lean the rest of the way in.

But on the other hand, this was fucking Jaeger. As pretty as his girly-ass eyes were, he was a major prick. And a dude.

 _What if this was another dude?_ Jean thought to himself. _Like, what if it was Armin?_

_Okay, no, gross, not happening, new thought, new thought..._

Armin was cute in the way a puppy was cute, not the way a person you wanted to kiss was cute. If Jean did have a type for guys, it wasn’t that.

_Okay, what about Connie?_

That was weird, too. Connie was just such a dude; Jean would never be able to get the mental image of him shoving an entire slice of pizza in his mouth out of his mind long enough to kiss him.

_What about Marco?_

Shit. Jean had completely forgotten about Marco.

All of Jean’s confusion was suddenly gone as painful regret completely flooded his mind. He physically ached at the thought of what he’d said to Marco. Combined with all the other shit he’d put Marco through, he wouldn’t be surprised if Marco never wanted to talk to him again... He wouldn’t blame him.

But _fuck_ , did that thought terrify him. He’d only been friends with Marco for a couple weeks, and already, the idea of not talking to Marco ever again was awful. Marco was his best friend, the best goddamn person he’d ever met. Marco deserved a hell of a lot better than Jean, but fuck, did Jean need him. Jean needed Marco in his life so bad.

And he might have just completely fucked it up.

“Jean?” Eren murmured, and Jean immediately leaned the rest of the way in, meeting Eren’s mouth desperately. Eren was a little surprised at first, but was quick to reciprocate, using his hold on Jean’s neck to keep him close.

~

That was the point in the story that Jean felt too embarrassed to continue.

Armin nodded, thinking everything over and taking a sip of his tea. He’d made a Sawney and Bean’s run after Jean had completed his first Walk of Shame and made it back to their dorm. Jean needed the coffee to calm down after waking up in the same bed as Eren. Armin needed the tea because Jean practically gave him a heart attack by bursting into the room, shouting, “ _I fucked up._ ” Jean told him he didn’t have to go, but Armin had insisted.

“How far exactly did the test go?” Armin asked.

“I... I’d rather not say,” Jean said, biting his lip.

“I was just curious. I backed out the second Eren started leaning in.”

“Oh, yeah, you did do that test, didn’t you?” Jean asked, remembering what Eren had said. “What’d you need to do that for? Just out of curiosity?”

“Not... exactly...” Armin mumbled, going for his tea again.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not important,” he muttered.

“What, you really can’t tell me? I mean, you don’t _have_ to, but I figure after all the shit I tell you-”

“Your dad,” Armin interrupted quietly. “It was... It was after what your dad said. About... well, yeah. You remember.”

Jean did remember.

_“Sorry, kid, there was just something about you that looked like you could be... y’know.”_

He remembered thinking that Armin had just let it roll of his back. He remembered being relieved when he’d gone to apologize only for Armin to insist that it was okay. And come to think of it, he remembered Armin getting back really, really late that night, the night he’d been pacing back and forth over and over until Marco called.

“Fuck, Armin, I’m so sorry,” Jean said. “I didn’t think-”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Armin said. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, but... Ugh, _fuck_ , why does my dad have to be such an asshole?”

Armin shrugged. “Let’s just be thankful you’re not.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I’m an asshole, Armin, look at me. Look at all the shit I’ve put Marco through. I’m the biggest asshole alive.”

“I mean, I agree that what you did was wrong, Jean, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you-”

“Of course he will. Marco is the fucking nicest person ever. He’s too nice for his own good.”

“Are... are you sure you should apologize then?”

Jean snapped his head up. “What?”

“If you really don’t want to hurt him again, what if you just... stay not friends? It’s not ideal, but if you don’t think Marco can do what’s best for himself...”

Hearing Armin say what Jean had been thinking made it absolutely clear that there was _no way_ he could do that. _That_ was what he hated so much about Levi, _that_ was what he always complained about, that Levi didn’t let Marco make his own decisions. Marco was his own goddamn person, who could make his own decisions, and decide for himself what was best. Who the fuck was Jean to think he knew better?

But at the same time, he couldn’t keep doing this to Marco. Marco deserved so much better. There had to be _something_ Jean could do...

“You know what? You’re a genius, Armin,” Jean said, standing up and heading for the door.

“W-wait, where are you going?”

“To apologize to Marco.”

“Wait, what?”

~

Instead of going straight to Marco’s, Jean decided to stop at Sawney and Bean’s. He had already had his own cup of coffee, but felt like showing up at Marco’s empty handed would just be weird somehow. A caramel mocha would be a nice peace offering, right?

Not really. It was kind of a shit peace offering. But Jean didn’t have the time or money to come up with something else.

Hanji, rather disappointingly, wasn’t working the register. Instead, it was a petite girl with ginger hair and big amber eyes. She was really cute, but... well, after last night, the _last_ thing on Jean’s mind was getting a girl.

_Or boy._

“Hello!” she said with a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

“Grande caramel mocha.”

“Grande caramel mocha,” she repeated, scrawling the order in Sharpie on a to-go cup. “Anything else?”

“That’s it,” Jean said, handing over a five dollar bill.

“Need a receipt?”

“That’d be great.”

The cash register took a while to spit out the receipt, Jean and the barista standing in a mildly awkward silence as they waited. The barista tucked her hair behind her ear absentmindedly, and Jean couldn’t help but notice the dark mark on her neck that her hair had been hiding. It could’ve been a bruise, but, seriously? It was definitely a hickey. Jean didn’t quite look away fast enough when she handed him his receipt, and she quickly covered it with her hair again.

“I’ll get that coffee right out,” she mumbled, stepping away from the register.

“Petra,” said another barista, poking his head out of the door behind the counter. Jean remembered his name being Erwin or something like that. “Oluo’s on the phone again.”

“Tell him I’m not answering,” the ginger barista called back, not even looking up from the coffee she was making.

“He says he won’t stop calling until you answer.”

“Then _unplug the phone_.” She sounded more threatening than Jean would’ve thought possible for a girl that looked like she did.

“Sounds good,” Erwin said with a chuckle, ducking back in and closing the door behind him.

Jean might’ve bothered to wonder why this girl had what looked to be a very recent hickey on her neck when she seemed to be going through a break-up with this Oluo guy, but he had enough of his own problems to care about the barista. He just got his coffee and left without really giving it a second thought.

He started getting more and more nervous the closer he got to Marco’s, wondering what on earth he was supposed to say. Obviously, he had to open with some form of, “I’m sorry,” but what from there? Just ranting about how sorry he was like last time seemed like a bad idea.

_Maybe it’ll be like a movie, and once I start talking I’ll just go into some eloquent speech that makes the audience cry. The kind of shit than wins Oscars. That’ll win Marco back, right?_

_Wait, wait, wait, “win Marco back”? This isn’t a goddamn chick flick, Jean, you’re just apologizing._

Jean really should’ve spent more time planning what he was going to say instead of arguing with himself. Before he knew it, he was at Marco’s dorm.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door, counted seventeen seconds before it opened, and said, without a second thought, as if it was the most natural thing in the world:

“I slept with Eren last night.”

And as many times as Jean had wanted one undo, one instance in which he could take back something he’d said, it was this truly this moment that he wished he could change the most.

Poor Marco, who looked surprised enough just to see Jean in the first place, looked absolutely _mortified_ by what Jean had just said. He was bright red, wide-eyed, and... man, he just looked so confused. Jean would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so mortified himself.

“Shit. That’s not... I didn’t meant... Fuck.”

“W-wait, so you _didn’t_ sleep with Eren?”

“No, I did.”

Marco looked more confused than ever.

Jean groaned. “Look, I did a fucking stupid thing last night. And the reason I did that stupid thing was because I was really fucking mad at myself for what I said to you. I didn’t fucking mean it, okay? I was just so fucking embarrassed that I liked Mikasa so much and she turned out to be dating Annie. And you know what a fucking idiot I am. Jesus, Marco, you know that better than anyone. And I _know_ that doesn’t excuse what I said, I’m not trying to use my stupidity as a get-out-of-jail-free card. I’m just gonna promise, right here and now, that I’m never going to say anything like that to you again.”

Jean paused to let Marco say something. He knew that wasn’t the most organized speech, but hopefully the important parts were clear.

“Jean, you can’t promise you’re never going to say anything like that again,” Marco said hesitantly. “I mean, it’s like you just said: you didn’t really mean it, but you said it anyway.”

“Yes, but here’s the difference: up until this point in my life, I have been a complete piece of shit. And while I know I’m not magically a good person now, I’m seriously going to make an effort to stop being a piece of shit. And don’t try to say I’m not a piece of shit, because I know I am.”

Marco cleared his throat. “I... I wasn’t going to.”

“...Oh.”

Jean could tell Marco was trying to fight a smile for a split second at that. He quickly regained his serious composure, though.

“Jean... I don’t know, I guess I just don’t really understand? And... was there something in there about sleeping with Eren?”

“Okay, we’ll talk about Eren last,” Jean said quickly. “But I mean, I can come in and explain everything-”

“No,” Marco said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway, taking command of the situation in a way that Jean had never seen from Marco before. “Right here. Explain.”

“Right,” Jean said, clearing his throat. “Well, last night... I regretted what I said literally the second I said it. I didn’t mean it for a second, and even if I did mean, it wouldn’t be fucking true, because you are seriously the greatest friend I have ever had, Marco. Like, if for some reason, I do snap and say something awful again, don’t believe it for a second, because you are the best person I have ever known.

“And I know feeling bad about what I said doesn’t make it okay. It doesn’t make it okay because I lash out when I’m embarrassed or scared or anything. None of that makes it okay. _Nothing_ makes it okay, because you are a wonderful person who doesn’t deserve fuckfaces like me treating them like that. I don’t want to treat you like that. And I almost didn’t apologize, because I didn’t want you to forgive me so I could just jump back in and hurt you again, but it’s not my decision to make for you. You need to make your own decision whether or not you forgive me. And I won’t blame you if you don’t, because I know I wouldn’t. It was a really shitty thing to say, and if I lose your friendship because of it, then I have to accept that, because I was being a shithead and you don’t deserve that.

“But the thing is, Marco, you’re _really_ important to me. I know we haven’t really even been friends that long, but like I said, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. And... when you let me cry on your shoulder, I’m just gonna fucking admit it: that meant a fucking lot to me, okay? You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met, and you’re smart, and hilarious, and just overall an awesome person. I would _love_ to stay friends with you. But it’s up to you, and I have given you absolutely no reason to want to stay friends with me.

“But like, I realized I had a problem, because you need to make your own decision, but I really don’t want you to choose that fucker from last night. I want you to choose whatever makes you happy, and if I didn’t decide to change, the only way that was guaranteed was if we stopped being friends. So I’m changing so you can have another option, of choosing the person I’m going to try to be.”

“You really want to change just for me? Marco asked. He didn’t look confused anymore. More... concerned. If anything, he looked a little _scared_.

“Well, not _just_ for you,” Jean admitted. “I just need to change in general. Nothing’s an excuse anymore, not my shitty temper, not my dad, nothing. I have to be a good person. You’re just the reason I decided I have to make this change _now_.”

Marco nodded, but his expression became strangely blank.

“Is that all you wanted, Jean?”

 _Fuck. Does he forgive me or not?_ “Um, I mean, I kind of wanted to talk about the, uh... Eren thing... I might need some help with that. But, I mean, that’s not why I’m here, I just figured if... um, if you forgive me, then maybe...?”

“I don’t.”

Jean froze. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t forgive you. I was really upset about what you said. You have no right to talk to me the way you did.”

 _Fuck. I fucked up. I completely fucked everything up._ “Oh. Okay. Um, I’m sorry.”

 _Fuck, what do I do now?_ Jean had no idea where to go from here. He was trying to read Marco for some sort of signal of what to do, but Marco looked completely emotionless. He wasn’t angry or nervous or anything. _Fuck, what the fuck happened?_

“Okay, um, I’ll just go then,” Jean said. _Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck, please, don’t let him have heard my voice crack, oh, Jesus, oh fuck-_

“Jean,” Marco said suddenly, grabbing his arm as he turned to walk away. _You fucking asshole, you cannot keep me standing here when I am about to fucking cry, Jesus, no-_

“What?”

Marco stepped aside. “Come inside.”

“What, why?”

“I don’t forgive you yet,” Marco said, “but I’m still here for you if you need me. I just need some time, okay? We’re still friends.”

“So like... you’re okay for now?”

“Yeah, I’m okay for now.”

“Jesus, Marco, you almost gave me a goddamn heart attack!” Jean gasped, punching Marco’s shoulder. Marco finally couldn’t hold back anymore, fully displaying his huge grin he’d been trying to suppress.

“Sorry, but you deserved it!” Marco laughed. Jean wanted to be mad, but he couldn’t. He threw his arms around Marco and buried his face in the big jerk’s shoulder. Marco hugged him back tightly, laughing softly in his ear, and Jean finally felt like things were going to be okay.

“So,” Marco murmured, “were you really about to cry?”

“Shut up,” Jean grumbled, hugging him tighter.

~~~

It only took Marco about five minutes after Jean stepped inside to forgive him. He’d never, ever admit it, but he was just so happy to have Jean there with him. He didn’t dare talk about Levi, he didn’t want to talk to anyone about that, but he did want to just talk to someone and be with someone, and having Jean there was a miracle. Even if the subject matter they were discussing wasn’t entirely ideal.

They didn’t get talking about it right away. They made small talk first, Jean complaining about how cold the weather was getting while Marco got the two of them sodas out of his and Connie’s mini-fridge. When Marco turned around, he saw Jean had made himself comfortable on Marco’s bed, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders like a cape. Marco wondered if he should sit on Connie’s bed but figured, if Jean really needed the space, he wouldn’t have sat on Marco’s bed in the first place. So Marco sat down next to him.

“Here’s a- wait, you have coffee?” Marco asked, suddenly noticing the Sawney and Bean’s cup in Jean’s hand.

“Oh, Jesus, I totally forgot!” Jean said, holding out the cup. “ _You_ have coffee. I brought you a caramel mocha.”

Marco suddenly regretted sitting so close to Jean. The urge to kiss him was strong.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a sip of the coffee to hide his surely reddening face. “So, um, you said something about Eren?”

Jean’s smile fell right off of his face. “Oh. Yeah. Uh... Well, I mean... I don’t really wanna talk about how it started, okay? I was being stupid and emotional, like I said, and Eren offered to go back to his place so we could drink and rant about Mikasa, and... well, yeah. Things escalated.”

There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, but Marco ignored it. “So what exactly do you want to talk about?”

Jean took a deep breath. “You’re my best friend, right?”

“Right.”

“And we can talk about anything?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Because I’m about to get really, _really_ honest.”

~~~

Kissing Eren was hardly romantic. It wasn’t even particularly sexy, really. It just kind of... was.

“Fuck, I hope you kiss better sober,” Eren mumbled.

 _Fucking Jaeger._ “Like you’re any better.”

“Yeah, _that’s_ why you’re already hard, because my kissing sucks.”

“Dude, I can fucking feel you, you’re hard, too.”

“Kirschtein, don’t even, I could get you off in about two seconds.”

“I’d fucking like to see you try,” Jean shot back, which, in hindsight, wasn’t the smartest thing to say. Eren immediately sat back enough to undo Jean’s pants.

“Wait, what are you- _ah_ ,” Jean gasped as Eren reached into his underwear and wrapped his fingers around Jean’s dick.

~~~

“So,” Jean began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He, uh, started off by kissing me...”

“Just out of the blue?” Marco asked, raising his eyebrows. He didn’t really know Eren, but it still seemed strange that he would kiss Jean, whom he not only didn’t get along with, but was also someone who everyone knew was straight.

“Not exactly... I don’t really remember all the details,” Jean admitted, already starting to blush. “Anyway, he kissed me, and then he, uh... started to... Okay, _fuck_ , is this awkward. He started jerking me off.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Marco asked. “I thought you said-”

“That’s... not it,” Jean mumbled, burying his face in his hands.

~~~

Eren was giving it fucking everything he had, but Jean was holding on, just fucking _barely_ holding on. He was not going to give Eren the satisfaction of getting him off that quickly.

“Fuck, Jean, you’re holding out longer than I thought,” Eren said.

“Maybe you’re worse at hand jobs than you thought,” Jean gasped, gritting his teeth and using all of his willpower to hold back.

“You’re probably right,” Eren said, pulling his hand away suddenly. Jean was both relieved and incredibly disappointed.

“Wait, what?”

“I’m better with my mouth,” he said, grinning evilly. _You motherfucker._

“Wait, you’re not seriously gonna suck my dick,” Jean said, watching as Eren moved back and spread Jean’s legs further apart to give him better access. “Jesus Christ, you’re seriously gonna - _h-holy_...!”

Eren did not mess around, no tentative licks like the only other time Jean had gotten a blow job, from his prom date. The bastard didn’t even tease; he just fucking went for it, gripping Jean’s hip with one hand while pumping the base of his dick with the other. His mouth was hot and wet, and fuck, did it feel good, and fuck, did Jean want to come, but again, he held back, because there was no way he was giving Jaeger the satisfaction.

“What, i-is that all you got?” Jean choked out, his fingers digging desperately into the bedsheets as he tried to hold back his moans.

Apparently that was not all Eren had, because without missing a beat, he removed his hand and took Jean all the way in his mouth.

“ _Fuck_!”

~~~

“He gave me head,” Jean mumbled, not even able to make eye contact with Marco anymore.

“I see,” Marco said, really unsure of how he was supposed to be reacting. Why was Jean even telling him all this? Marco knew Jean had to talk things out when he was stressed about something, but he seemed so uncomfortable talking about it. It’s one thing when he had to talk about something, but right now he was completely forcing himself to. Why? “So, um, is _that_ all?”

Jean groaned. “No.”

~~~

Eren stopped all the sudden, pulling away and sitting up to look Jean in the eye.

“W-what?” Jean gasped, again relieved that Eren hadn’t won but increasingly desperate to come already.

“I’m trying to decide something.”

“What?”

“Well, I guess I should let _you_ decide, shouldn’t I?”

“ _What_ , Eren?”

Eren grinned. “There, you finally said my name.”

“ _You fucking_ -”

“Anyway, what do you think? Should I finish the blow job or should I fuck you proper?”

“Wait, holy shit, what?”

“Would you want to fuck? Or is this enough?”

“Is this still part of that stupid test?!”

“Oh, no, this stopped being The Test a while ago,” Eren said. “Now I just really want to make you come.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I can tell you’re holding back,” he explained. “And now _I’m_ not going to be satisfied until _you_ are.”

“Wait, if anything, I’m gonna be the one fucking you,” Jean snapped.

Eren actually laughed. “Kirschtein, there’s _no fucking way_ you’re topping. Your pick: blow job or bottoming. Or I suppose you can pick neither, if that’s what you really want.”

Yeah, that’s not what he wanted.

~~~

Marco just blinked. “So you really...”

“Yup.”

“And it was...” Marco cleared his throat. “Like, you liked it?”

“Yes,” Jean groaned, flopping over and burying his face in Marco’s pillow. He kept ranting, even though his voice was now muffled and a little hard to understand. “Iknowit’sErenandIreallyfuckingwishitwasn’tbutImeanasidefromthefactthatit’sfuckingJaegerIactuallyreallylikeditandfuckdoesthismeanI’mgay?”

Marco didn’t answer at first. Jean, the guy he was practically in love with, slept with someone else last night. And for some damn reason, he couldn’t be happier.

Jean slept with a guy and liked it, but didn’t actually like the guy he’d slept with. This was the most perfect possible situation Marco could have stumbled into. He didn’t have to be jealous, because Jean still hated Eren. But Jean wasn’t completely straight. Shout it from the rooftops, throw a damn parade, because Jean Kirschtein is not one-hundred percent straight.

“Would it be so bad if you were?” Marco asked.

Jean immediately sat up. “No, no, no, that’s not what I meant at all! Just... _Fuck_ , Marco, I thought I knew who I was! I’ve never had a crush on a guy, I’ve never had to force away gay thoughts, and all the sudden, I’m losing my virginity to _fucking Jaeger_.”

“So... is that why you wanted to talk about it? You want me to tell you if this means you’re gay?”

Jean didn’t say anything, but Marco could totally tell from his facial expression that that’s exactly what he wanted.

“Jean, I can’t tell you what you are,” Marco said. “I mean, just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I know everything. I actually honestly don’t know what you’re going through, because I realized that I was gay in the sixth grade.”

“No, I understand,” Jean said. “I mean, I’m not asking you because you’re gay, I’m asking because you’re my best friend.”

Fuck. The urge to kiss him was _really_ strong.

“If you want my opinion, I think you just need to relax,” Marco said. _Wow. First time I’m the one telling someone else to relax in a long time._ “You don’t have to decide anything right now. Think things over. Get used to the idea. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. You don’t have to figure things out right away.”

Jean nodded, letting Marco’s words sink in. “Damn, Marco, that was wise.”

“So, you okay for now?”

Jean smiled. “Yeah. I... I’m okay. Mostly. Still kind of freaking out. But trying.”

“That’s all I ask, Jean,” Marco said with a grin, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to Jean’s cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world before standing up to throw away his empty coffee cup.

It took about five seconds of dead silence for him to realize what he’d done.

“Did you just-”

“Shut up,” Marco said, not daring to turn around.

“But you-”

“Nope.”

“Marco-”

“ _Shut up_.”

To either Marco’s relief or humiliation, he wasn’t quite sure which, Jean just started laughing.

“God, is Levi gonna kill me now?” Jean asked.

Marco turned to look at Jean, but said nothing.

Jean’s grin faded away. “What’s wrong?”

_It’s nothing. Everything’s fine. I’m probably just being stupid._

Those were the first responses that came to Marco’s mind. Instead, he said, “I don’t think Levi and I are going to last much longer.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Marco said, “but yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s over.”

“I’m sorry about that, man,” Jean said.

“‘S’okay,” Marco mumbled.

After a pause, Jean spoke up again. “Hey, how about after you guys break up, I take you out?”

Marco blinked, playing Jean’s words over and over again in his mind, because there is no way that’s what Jean just said. “What?”

“I mean, not like _that_ ,” Jean clarified. _Fuck, you idiot, that’s what I want._ “But... I mean, what if we redo our date?”

“Redo our date?”

“Yeah! I mean, you’re my best friend, and it’s kind of fucked up that our friendship started on such a shitty thing. So let’s forget that ever happened and have a redo. I’ll take you out to the same restaurant, I’ll buy you dinner and everything, and we’ll go on a walk, but this time, no shitty fraternity members are going to show up and ruin everything. I mean, unless you don’t want to, I understand if you don’t, but-”

“No,” Marco interrupted. “I want to, let’s do it.”

“Awesome,” Jean said with a grin. “I’m telling you, Marco, I’m gonna change. I’m gonna fix everything. You’ll see, man.”

Going on a “date” with Jean was probably in some way, shape, or form going to be a terrible idea. But for now, Marco couldn’t help but smile back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (just so you know, whenever someone leaves a nice comment i take a screen cap of it and save it to a folder i look through whenever i'm not feeling so good about my writing. you guys are lovely.)
> 
> As always, I love to hear what you guys think, especially since there was some smut-esque things in there and I've never written smut before?? I dunno, man.


	13. About Five Epiphanies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christa and Ymir are the best neighbors Jean could've asked for.

_This is stupid..._ Jean thought to himself as he raised his fist to knock on Christa’s door. He left his hand hovering a few inches away as his brain frantically tried to talk him into it and out of it at the same time.

_Armin said you should..._  

That was true. Armin had _highly_ recommended talking to Christa about this sort of thing, ever since Jean came home from Marco’s on Sunday to find Armin smiling excitedly at some book.

“Good porn?” Jean had asked as he closed the door behind him.

“W-what?” Armin stammered, his face going red as he immediately dropped his book.

“Dude, I was kidding,” Jean said, falling back onto his bed.

“Oh. Right. Sorry,” he said, looking down at his book sheepishly.

“What is it, anyway?”

“A book.”

“No fucking shit. What’s it about?”

“...Christa loaned it to me.”

Jean sat up, a little suspicious of Armin avoiding his question. “Yeah? And... what’s it about?”

Armin hesitated again. “I’d rather not say.”

“Oh. Um, okay,” Jean said, sitting back again. “Whatever you say, man.”

There was a long pause before Armin piped up again, “You promise not to laugh?”

“Why the fuck would I laugh?"

“Or make fun of me?”

“Armin, I’m not gonna make fun of you.”

“Actually, just don’t say anything at all. I’m gonna tell you something, and... I just want you to listen, okay?”

With a sigh, Jean sat up again, giving Armin his undivided attention. “Go for it. I’m all ears.”

“It’s a book about... s-sexuality,” Armin admitted. albeit begrudgingly.

Jean raised his eyebrows. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

Armin waited a moment, like he was waiting for Jean to say something, but then he seemed to remember he’d made Jean promise not to. “Um, specifically, asexuality.”

Jean’s eyebrows raised further, but still he remained silent.

“B-because I’m asexual.”

Still silence.

“Okay, please, please say something, oh, my God,” Armin whined, burying his face in his arms.

“That’s great, Armin.”

Armin’s head shot up. “What?”

“That’s great,” Jean repeated. “That’s really great, figuring things out for yourself. I’m happy for you.”

Armin’s face twitched into a smile for a split second. “Really?”

“Of course,” Jean said. “I... I just feel bad for making that porn joke before...”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it,” Armin said quickly.

“You think you could give me like, the sort of textbook definition?” Jean asked. “I mean, I think I get it, but I don’t wanna have things wrong if-”

“Of course!” Armin said excitedly, no longer able to suppress his huge grin. “Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it!”

And Armin did tell him all about it. He told Jean all about how he was so unsure about things before, because he had never been attracted to a girl before, so he always wondered if he might be gay. Then... well, Jean’s dad happened... and Eren suggested the Test, and Armin started panicking because he didn’t like boys either, and thank God Christa came over while Jean was out with Marco to talk to him about it...

“Jean, if you’re still unsure about things, _talk to her_ ,” Armin insisted. “Christa knows _everything_.”

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, Jean knocked on the door. _If Ymir’s here, I’m just gonna cry. Right here, outside of their door._

“Hey, Jean!” Christa said brightly at seeing him in her doorway. A quick scan behind her let Jean know that Ymir was, in fact, out. _Thank God._ “What’s up?”

“Can I, uh, talk to you?” Jean asked. _Please, just get the hint..._ He didn’t want this to get anymore embarrassing than it was already going to be.

“About what?” _Fuck._

“Um... You know...”

Christa tilted her head, still looking confused.

Jean said. “Armin told me I should talk to you if I had a... _problem_...”

“Armin?”

“A problem like _his_ problem.”

“ _Oh_!” she gasped, immediately widening the door and ushering him inside. “Yeah, of course, come in!”

Jean had only been inside this dorm once, just a few days ago before Armin’s party, and already it looked pretty different. The difference between Christa and Ymir’s sides had been practically night and day, but for some reason the two suddenly seemed a lot more mixed. Things were just off, with things like Ymir’s gray flannel blanket joining the fluffy pink ones on Christa’s bed, or Christa’s fluffy pajamas wadded at the foot of Ymir’s bed. The darkness of Ymir’s stuff had mixed with the lightness of Christa’s... _Guess they’re getting closer or something._

“Have a seat,” Christa said, gesturing to her own bed. She sat down cross-legged on Ymir’s bed while Jean made himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as he _could_ be. The circumstances were already pretty uncomfortable

Jean cleared his throat. “Where is Ymir, anyway?" 

“She’s at the grocery store.”

“What, she could be back any minute?” Jean asked nervously. _Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea..._

“Oh, don’t worry, she just left,” Christa said. “And she takes forever. We have plenty of time.”

Jean gave a shaky nod. “O-okay.”

“So Armin told you?” Christa asked.

“Oh, yeah, he explained everything,” Jean said.

“Did you have any questions about _that_ , or...?”

“No. Well, not really, anyway... I mean, I think I get asexuality, for the most part,” Jean said.

Christa smiled. “I’m glad. I know he was worried about what his friends were going to think.”

Jean frowned. “Did he really think we would think differently of him just because he’s asexual?”

“Some people have funny reactions to people coming out,” Christa said sadly. “You should’ve seen my parents when I told them I was demisexual.”

“Demisexual?” Jean repeated. “I... I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means...”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, a lot of people don’t!” Christa assured him. “It basically means that I don’t feel sexual attraction to people unless I develop a strong emotional bond with them.”

“Oh, okay,” Jean said, hurriedly nodding to show his understanding. He didn’t want to do anything to offend Christa; he was _desperate_ for her help.

Christa nodded back with a smile. “So you wanted to talk?”

“Right.” Jean cleared his throat. “I wanted to know if it’s possible for me to be just like, _mostly_ straight.”

“Any sexuality is _possible_ , Jean.”

“Okay, yeah, but like...” Jean sighed frustratedly. “Okay, you won’t tell _anyone_ what I say, right? Not even Ymir?”

“I swear,” Christa said, crossing her heart as a show of sincerity.

“I slept with Eren.”

Christa gasped. “ _What_?! You mean... You mean _sleep_ or like, you fucked Eren?”

Jean winced. It was even worse coming out of seemingly-innocent Christa’s mouth. “Th-the second one.”

“Oh, my God, I did _not_ see that one coming!”

“ _Christa_.”

“Can I ask why?”

Jean hesitated. “I was a little drunk. And upset.”

“Oh, because of Mikasa?” she asked, looking sympathetic.

_And Marco, but whatever._ “Yeah. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t have assumed she was into guys without asking...”

“Oh, don’t feel bad about it!” Christa said cheerfully. “It’s not your fault hetero-normativity is a thing.”

“Hetero-normativity?”

“The assumption that everyone you meet is straight,” Christa said.

_Jeez, apparently I don’t know anything about this stuff._ “Well, that’s shit.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Fuck, I always assumed _I_ was straight, until I fucking fucked Jaeger.”

“Why did you assume you were straight?”

“Because I _like girls_. I have _always_ liked girls, and I _still_ like girls. Girls are _great_. I mean, they’re so pretty, and they always smell so nice, and, I mean, fuck, why do you guys always have to look so _cute_?”

Christa smiled. “Buuut?”

“No ‘but’ yet,” Jean said before continuing. “I’ve _never_ been into guys. And I mean it, this isn’t a ‘hey, that guy’s hot, no homo,’ type of thing. Eren even asked me about this before we... y’know. And I can say with one hundred percent certainty that I have, in the past, never been into a guy.”

“ _Buuut_?”

“Well... Then _Eren_. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but... I mean, he said some stuff, and it made me kinda second guess myself, so he suggested his test thing-”

“Ugh, the _Test_ ,” Christa groaned. “That made poor Armin so confused.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Jean said. Armin was chill most of the time, but when he got panicked... It wasn’t pretty.

“So how did the Test go for you?” Christa asked, getting back on topic.

“Well, let’s just say, I think I fucking passed,” Jean mumbled.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” Christa said with a smirk. “But how did you _feel_ during it? That’s what’s important here, not what _happened_ , but how you _felt_ about it.”

“Oh, um... I mean, I was still pretty upset over what had happened earlier, and I didn’t particularly _dislike_ what was going on with Eren, so I just kind of let it happen, and then... Well, kissing him was kind of in the heat of the moment...”

“And you liked it, kissing him?”

Jean had kind of downplayed this part when he’d told other people, but, well, he felt like he needed Christa to know everything to make a proper assessment. “ _Hell_ yeah.”

Christa laughed. “Really?”

“Oh, my God, it was _so good_ ,” Jean groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t you fucking dare tell Eren I said that, but really.”

“Okay,” Christa said with a nod. “And then the actual fucking itself?”

Jean buried his face in his hands. “ _So good_.”

“Okay, so you’ve always liked girls, and you still like girls, and you’ve never liked boys, but you really enjoyed having sex with Eren. Do I have everything straight? Well, except you, apparently-”

“ _Christa_.”

She giggled. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist!”

“Yeah, that’s everything. So what does it mean?”

She leaned forward seriously, and she suddenly took on a very professional vibe. “Have you ever heard of the term ‘heteroflexible’?”

Jean shook his head. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s pretty much exactly what you said when you came in here. ‘Mostly straight’. You’re attracted to people from the opposite gender, but you still _can_ be attracted to your own gender.

Jean felt almost a week’s worth of stress melt away. “Sweet Jesus, is that a real thing?” Fuck, that sounded too good to be true.

“Of course! Actually, here, let me grab...” she mumbled as she went to her bookshelf and pulled off one... two... Jesus, she grabbed _six_ books and dropped them all with a slightly painful thud in his lap.

“Fuck, you want me to read _all of these_?”

“No, no, of course not! Just a few chapters here and there,” she said. She picked up the first one and flipped through carefully before turning it back toward Jean. “This is the Kinsey scale.”

“The Kinsey scale?” Jean asked, taking the book and scanning over the page she’d turned to.

“It’s not very helpful in terms of asexuality or pansexuality or anything, but for someone like you, this could help a _lot_ ,” Christa explained. “It’s a scale, from zero to six, on how much you’re attracted to your own gender versus the opposite gender. A zero would be entirely heterosexual, and a six would be entirely homosexual.”

“So where do I fall on this thing?” Jean asked.

“That’s for you to determine,” she said. “My best guess is that you’re a one or a two. If you were a three, I would definitely pin you as bisexual, but I don’t think that’s what we’re working with here. Read the chapter, and maybe google some stuff if you’re still confused.”

“Okay,” Jean said, “but what about the rest of these?”

Christa picked up the second book and furiously began flipping through that, too. “Okay, this book is about bisexuality and variations upon, and has a whole chapter about heteroflexibility that you should read. See if you identify with it and everything. That’s a must.”

The third book. “This one talks about different sexuality tests and scales in addition to the Kinsey scale, so you can see what those say about you, too." 

The fourth book. “This one’s about asexuality. Read some for Armin’s sake.”

The fifth book. “This one has a lot of information about a lot of different sexualities, so I would read up on all of those. Just being more informed about all this is helpful to pinning yourself.”

And the sixth book...

“Wait, _hold on_ a second,” Jean interrupted, holding up the last book. “‘ _I’m In Love With My Best Friend!_ ’? ‘A Guide for Dealing with Gay Feelings You Didn’t Know You Had’?! Christa, what the _fuck_?”

Christa just laughed. “Ignore the title! I just like this one because of the really easy-going narrative. It doesn’t read like a textbook or anything. It’s just good for anyone going through a, ‘wait, I’m _not_ straight?’ deal.”

“Oh.”

Christa chuckled. “You get _really_ defensive, huh?”

“Shut up.” Jean could feel himself turning red.

“Besides, you and Eren are _far_ from best friends.”

_Oh. Right. She was thinking about Eren._

“Your best friend is Marco, right?” she asked.

“Yup,” Jean said, feeling himself getting redder. _What the fuck._

“Marco’s so nice... He’s a real cutie,” Christa said with a giggle.

“Yup.”

Christa’s eyes widened and Jean immediately realized he’d fucked up. Fucking hell, he’d fucked up, oh, fuck...

“Well, I’m gonna head out now,” Jean said quickly, pulling all of the books tightly to his chest and heading for the door.

“Jean-"

“Thanks a million, Christa,” Jean said as he stepped out the door. “I’ll bring the books back as soon as I can, you’re a lifesaver!”

“But-”

It was too late. The door closed. _Thank God._

Jean closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief, turning to head to his dorm and smacking forehead-first into Ymir. Her grocery bags and his books went crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” she hissed, rubbing the reddening mark on her head. “Look where the fuck you’re going, Kirschtein.”

“Sorry,” Jean mumbled, holding his own head.

“What the fuck were you doing in my dorm, anyway?”

“N-nothing, I-”

“Hold on,” she said, picking up one of the books off the ground. _Please don’t let it be-_ “‘ _I’m In Love With My Best Friend!’_?” _Fuck._

“I...” Jean struggled to come up with some excuse but, fuck, he had nothing.

“Fuck, she got you too?”

_What? She “got” me?_

“Christa,” Ymir clarified. “She gets so into this stuff...”

“Oh, yeah,” Jean said with a shaky laugh. _Are you about to make fun of me or not?_

Ymir just looked down at the book for a while. “I’m guessing Marco?”

Jean’s face immediately went bright red. “N-no! Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Everyone?”

Jean quickly picked up the rest of his books and ripped the last one out of Ymir’s hand. “Whatever, I-”

“Jean, wait,” she said, her voice... well, it wasn’t necessarily _kind_ , but it was kind by Ymir’s standards.

“What?”

“Do you wanna go for a walk or something?”

“A walk? Why the fuck would you want to go on a walk with me?”

“Just go for a walk with me, you piece of shit,” Ymir said, smirking and ruffling his hair as she walked past him down the hall. Jean set his books down by his door as he followed, fixing his hair and grumbling.

Once the two were outside, Jean expected Ymir to start talking. Instead, she just shoved her hands into her pockets and kept walking.

Just as Jean opened his mouth to ask again why she wanted to go for a walk, Ymir interrupted with a, “Fuck, it’s getting cold out, huh?”

“Ymir, _why the fuck are we out then_?” Jean snapped. “Jesus, don’t you hate me anyway?”

Ymir raised an eyebrow. “Hate you? What gave you that idea?”

Jean’s eyes went wide, his mouth opening and closing several times as he attempted to speak. “Are you _kidding_?” he finally choked out.

“I mean, yeah, I know I curse you out a lot,” Ymir said with a shrug, “but I don’t hate you.  You’re just so fucking loud.”

Jean groaned. “ _Why_ are we on a walk, Ymir?”

Ymir stopped suddenly, looking at Jean. “I’m in love with Christa.”

“What?”

“What, do I have to explain why?”

“No, I just... I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting that from you.”

Ymir sighed. “I have been told my entire life that liking girls was a phase,” Ymir said. _Why the fuck is she being so honest with me all the sudden?_ Considering he didn’t even know her last name, this just seemed weird. Still, Ymir continued. “When I was fucking five years old and made my Barbies kiss and get married, my mom told my dad not to worry because it was a phase. When I chased other girls in the playground and made them kiss me, my teachers told my parents not to worry because it was a phase. And then I started believing it was a phase, too, when I got to middle school and all of my friends were dating boys and all I wanted was to date them. And I got angry, okay? I was really angry that I wasn’t growing out of my phase. I ended up being so intolerable that I lost pretty much all of my friends.

“And then I came here, and I thought maybe I’d finally find that guy that was supposed to get me out of my phase, y’know? I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be you or Armin, since you guys lived next door and are more tolerable than most guys I’ve ever met-”

“You thought I was _tolerable_?” Jean interrupted, because he could not imagine Ymir, the girl who was constantly screaming at him to shut up, found him, of all things, a possible mate.

“Shut the fuck up, Kirschtein. Anyway, I still was getting nothing. But _Christa_. At first, I just didn’t really think about it because it was just part of my stupid phase, right? But it just kept getting worse and worse, and then I made out with fucking Eren Jaeger and _that_ was a mistake-”

“Oh, yeah, the Test, right?” Jean interrupted.

Ymir raised an eyebrow. “How do you know about the Test?”

_Fuck. I fucked up. Holy shit, did i just fuck up._ It wasn’t until a second too late that Jean realized he could’ve just said from Armin, but no, he had hesitated too long. _Fuck._

“Okay, you’re definitely telling me about that,” Ymir said, “but I’ll finish my thing first.”

“But-”

“So I made out with Eren and yeah, there’s no fucking way I’m attracted to boys. I like girls. I like girls a _lot_. And right now, oh, _fuck_ , do I like Christa, Jesus Christ...”

“Have you told her?” Jean asked.

“Oh, _God_ , no,” Ymir said, her eyes widening. “I mean, I talked to Christa after I made out with Eren, that’s how I know how she gets about this stuff. She’s the one that helped me finally just accept that it’s not a phase and I’m a certified, Kinsey-six lesbian.”

“Right, the Kinsey scale,” Jean said with a nod. _Why the fuck don’t I have a filter?_

Ymir raised an eyebrow again but said nothing about it. “But Christa... she’s demi, right?  And... I don’t really know exactly how like, crushes and stuff work for her. She... What if she doesn’t like me like that? What if she might develop feelings for me if I gave it more time? What if I confess too soon and completely fuck everything up? Jesus, Jean, I’m _terrified_.” Ymir sighed and looked down at her feet.

“Done?”

“Yeah.”

“Any reason why you’re telling all this to _me_?”

She shrugged without looking up. “I thought I would feel better.”

“Do you?”

“No, this is kinda shit.”

This was weird. Jean had never seen Ymir anything but angry or hostile, but now... Well, she had kinda laid everything out on the table. And she seemed really upset about it. It was weird, and Jean couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“I slept with Eren,” Jean said. The first time he’d admitted it, he’d been explaining it in a panic to Armin. The second time was completely accidentally to Marco. Then he was horribly embarrassed when he said it to Christa. Now, he was saying it consolingly to Ymir, and for some reason, that felt the most natural out of any of them.

Ymir’s head immediately shot up. “Wait, that was... with the Test?”

“Yup,” Jean said with a nod. “I got fucked up the ass by Eren Jaeger.”

Ymir burst out laughing, grabbing her stomach as she doubled over, and instead of feeling embarrassed... Well, Jean just laughed with her. All of the sudden, this whole stupid thing just became hilarious, and the two couldn’t breathe, they were laughing so hard.

Finally they stopped, wiping tears from their eyes and taking deep breaths, as Ymir asked, “So, Kinsey scale?”

“One or two,” Jean said. “Haven’t decided yet.”

Ymir nodded approvingly. “Well, let me know once you figure it out.”

“I will,” Jean said. “And... you and Christa. Let me know how things are going.”

“Thanks, Kirschtein. Now,” she said, hooking her arm with Jean’s and setting off walking again, “tell me what the deal is with you and Marco.”

Jean groaned. “Why do you think there’s a deal with me and Marco?”

“I’ve been dying to ask for a while, but figured you would get way too no-homo for me to ask anything.”

“Why have you being ‘dying to ask’?”

“Ever since you sang that fucker a French love song.”

Jean immediately felt his face go red. “Wait... how’d you know it was a love song?”

“It was easy enough to guess from what I caught in English, but... _Je comprends un peu de français, aussi_.” I understand a little French, too.

“Fuck, does _everyone around here speak French_?”

Ymir laughed. “Relax, I just have a few years of shitty high school French. Enough to gather that you called Marco your true love and said his eyes, nose, and lips were adorable.”

“All that shit was in English,” Jean grumbled.

“And you wanted him to ‘ _viens-t-en dans mes bras’_ ,” Ymir pointed out with a grin. Come into my arms. _Shit_.

“That’s just the words to the song,” Jean said defensively.

“Yeah, so if you didn’t mean it, why did you sing it to him?”

“It’s the only song I know all the words to in French!”

“Why did you have to sing him a song in French?”

“Because...” Well, fuck. She had him there. “I don’t know, he seemed so... flustered, I guess, that I could sing _and_ speak French, so... I don’t know, I wanted to do both.”

“To impress him, perhaps?”

“ _No_.”

“Oh, c’mon, Jean,” Ymir whined, tugging on his arm in a way that was probably supposed to be playful but was actually pretty painful. Ymir really didn’t now how not to be aggressive.

“C’mon, _what_?”

“I mean, if you didn’t want to impress him, you at least wanted to tease him,” Ymir pointed out. “Seriously, those are the only two logical explanations.”

Jean scoffed. “Or... um, maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

Fuck. Jean had nothing. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, there has to be_ some _explanation, right?_

_Other than teasing him?_

_And making him blush?_

It’s not like he was doing it all just so Marco would say he was good at singing...

_Not that it wasn’t nice when Marco_ did _say that..._

Or when Marco dipped him... That was... interesting-

_Oh, holy shit._

“Jean?”

Jean just looked at Ymir and shook his head. “No.”

“No what?”

“This isn’t... You’re not... No, sorry, this isn’t happening, I-”

“Jean, just-”

“N-no, Ymir, seriously, I can’t do this right now-”

“ _Jean_ , calm-”

“Stop!” Jean snapped, taking a few steps back and ripping his arm away from Ymir. She just stood staring at him.

“Jean?”

Jean took a shaky breath. “I _can’t_ like Marco, Ymir,” he said, his voice cracking. _Goddamnit._

Ymir said nothing for a moment, just watching Jean carefully. Then she held out her arms.

“C’mere,” she said with a sigh.

“W-what?”

“C’mere, you idiot,” she said, waving her arms a little for emphasis.

“I’m not hugging you,” Jean grumbled, sniffling and feeling like he was five years old.

“Just hug me, you shithead,” she said, stepping forward and pulling Jean into a hug anyway.

“Why?”

“...Because I wanted someone there for me when I realized I like Christa,” she said quietly.

“I-I can’t... I-”

“Why can’t you?” Ymir said, her voice still alarmingly gentle.

“H-he... He has a boyfriend-”

“What, that little shithead, Levi? Like fuck are they gonna last. Levi’s too abrasive for someone like Marco.”

_“I don’t think Levi and I are going to last much longer.”_ Fuck.

“M-my...” Jean swallowed. “My father.”

Ymir immediately put her hands on Jean’s shoulders and pushed him arm’s length away. “Wait, your _father_?”

Jean couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Ymir. He was too ashamed that even after all this shit, he still cared too fucking much what his father thought.

“This is the guy that made Armin have his own gay crisis, right?”

The guilt felt like it was stabbing him in the gut. “Yeah.”

“So I’m assuming he’s just a shitty person in general, yeah?”

“The worst.”

“...And you’re letting him make your life decisions?”

“Ymir, he’s been making my decisions for me my entire life,” Jean said desperately. He felt a tear spill out of his eye and run down his cheek. _God fucking damnit._ “He’s the reason I even came to this stupid college in the first place, he’s the reason I’m a damn _business_ major, and fuck, I fucking hate business, and...”

“I fucking hate business,” Jean had said. Back when it was Sunday, and he was still hanging out at Marco’s.

“Why is it your major then?” Marco had asked, scooting closer and holding out the bowl of popcorn they were sharing.

Jean gratefully took a handful. “Marco, you know why.”

Marco sighed. “Jean, your father can’t be an excuse to make yourself miserable.”

“Huh?”

“Jean, you’re miserable. You hate your major. You hate your classes. You hate that fraternity. I’m not even convinced you like this school.”

“I... I like the people here, anyway.”

“Jean... you said you wanted to change and be a better person, right?”

“Right.”

“Start doing things for yourself,” Marco said.

“What, being selfish is gonna make me a better person?”

“It’s not being selfish to do things for yourself! It’s only selfish if you do it at the expense of others. Like how your father is forcing you to do everything like he did even though you’re completely different people! _That’s_ selfish. You doing what you want to do with your life isn’t selfish.”

Jean said nothing, looking down at his lap instead of responding.

“Registration for next quarter is soon, right?” Marco asked quietly. “Why don’t you sign up for classes that have nothing to do with business?”

“I don’t even know what I would take,” Jean admitted.

“Just whatever sounds fun or interesting. And, I mean, for the love of God, you _have_ to take a French class.”

Jean’s head immediately snapped up. “A French class?”

“Jean, I have only ever seen you get passionate about a couple of things,” Marco said. “And when you speak French... I don’t know, it’s kind of... beautiful.”

Jean immediately turned red. “Beautiful?”

“Sorry,” Marco laughed. “But it’s true. It’s obvious you get excited about it, that you enjoy it. Take a French class.”

“Maybe I will,” Jean said, popping some popcorn into his mouth and refusing to look at Marco.

“Just do what makes you happy,” Marco said. “That’s all I really want. And maybe if you finally start letting yourself be happy, being a good person will come easier.”

_Letting yourself be happy..._

“Jean?” Ymir said, staring at him questionably.

Jean sniffled. “I’m gonna take a French class.”

“What?”

“I’m gonna take a French class,” Jean said, more to himself than to Ymir. “And... I don’t know, I’ll find other classes I wanna take, too. And I’m gonna drop out of the fraternity and stay with Armin, because that’s what I want to do. And I’m gonna be friends with Connie even if my dad thinks he’s lazy and I’m gonna be friends with Armin even if he wants to go into environmental science. And I’m gonna write my grand-mère more often.  And I’m gonna wear scarves. And I’m gonna call people adorable. And...”

“I’m sorry, Jean, you completely lost me,” Ymir said, shaking her head.

“I’m gonna start letting myself be happy,” Jean said.

“What TV psychologist did you get that from?”

Jean shook his head. “I got it from Marco. I got it from Marco, who I completely love. There, I fucking said it, okay? I love Marco. And... wow, okay, I didn’t realize it until now, but I’ve been jealous of his boyfriend for weeks. And, mother of fuck, I slept with Eren because I was upset about being a dick to Marco. I sang him a goddamn song in French because he got embarrassed and it was _adorable_. And he’s the first person to actually make me feel like I deserve to be happy, and fuck, I love him, oh, shit...”

Ymir just smirked. “I was expecting a little crush, not a full-blown declaration of love.”

Jean slumped his shoulders defeatedly. “To be honest, I really... I really didn’t think any of this out before I said it.”

“That’s your thing, isn’t it?” Ymir said, clapping his shoulder and motioning for him to join her as she started walking again. “You talk too much. And I don’t talk enough. Either way, it ends with word vomit and admitting a little more than you were intending to.”

Jean smiled. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Letting me talk to you.”

Ymir shrugged. “You let me talk to you about Christa. But I just I figured I would be able to kill you pretty easily if you told anyone else.”

Jean’s jaw dropped. “Wait, _that’s_ why you chose to tell me?”

Ymir just laughed and threw an arm around his shoulder. “Let’s get coffee. On me, okay? You can tell me all about Marco on the way there.”

Jean sighed in relief. He’d just had about five epiphanies in the past half hour and _fuck_ , did he need to talk. As usual.

"That'd be-"

Jean was interrupted by his own phone ringing. It was Marco, of all people.

"One sec," Jean said as he answered. "Hello?"

"Start planning that date, Kirschtein."

" _What_?" Jean squeaked out as Marco burst out laughing.

"Levi and I broke up."

"Oh, really? I'm sorry-"

"Don't be, it's really fine. Really."

"Okay. Well, if you're really fine-"

"I am!"

Jean laughed. "Okay. I'll start planning our 'date'."

"Perfect. I'll see you later!"

"Bye," Jean said before hanging up.

Ymir was staring at him in disbelief. "Wait,  _what_?"

Jean opened his mouth to explain, only to realize how stupid this actually was. He was about to take Marco, the boy he was definitely in love with, on a fake date.

His good mood from talking to Marco immediately fading away. "I'm… I'm completely fucked."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *THROWS CONFETTI* JEAN'S HETEROFLEXIBLE AND LIKES MARCO, HOORAY!
> 
> Finally.
> 
> If I've explained anything horribly wrong, please let me know so I can fix it. Part of what I'm trying to do here is include lots of different sexualities here and I would hate to get something wrong…
> 
> But yeah! Demi Christa! Ace Armin! Lesbian Ymir! I really hope you guys liked this, I'm sorry I took so long, I love you all so so much.


	14. Of All People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is single and Sasha actually exists.

Breaking up with Levi was like taking taking a massive weight off of Marco’s chest that he hadn’t even realized was there.

By the time they actually broke up, Marco hadn’t even spoken to Levi since he’d left to comfort Petra. And, well, if it wasn’t obvious then what was going to happen, it became more and more so with each passing day they went without speaking. Marco had expected himself to maybe feel at least a little sad about it, especially after losing his virginity to Levi, but... he didn’t. There was absolutely no reason to. He and Levi weren’t right for each other. He was in love with Jean. And Levi... Levi was definitely in love with someone else, too.

When Levi and Marco finally did meet up, with Levi arranging the meeting with the infamous “we need to talk,” Marco knew exactly what was going to happen. Levi didn’t think himself so transparent, but he really was.

Levi showed up at Marco’s door, stepped inside, and quickly asked if his roommate was going to be back anytime soon. He was definitely nervous, thinking he was about to break Marco’s heart. He didn’t _look_ distinctly nervous, but knowing him like Marco knew him... His expression was as emotionless as ever, but his jaw was tensed. He was fidgeting with himself more than usual. His socks weren’t quite matching. Compared to usual, Levi was a nervous wreck.

So imagine Levi’s surprise when, after he finally dropped the big, “There’s someone else,” Marco replied with a chuckle and a calm, “I know.”

“You _know_?”

“It’s Petra, right?”

“Did Erwin tell you?” Levi snapped. “Or Hanji? Fuck, it was Hanji, wasn’t it? I’m going to kill-”

“No one told me,” Marco said. “I could just tell.”

“How?”

Marco rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before realizing that he’d been doing that a lot lately, which was weird, because he usually hid his face when he felt awkward. Why was he rubbing the back of his neck? Who-

...Oh.

“Well, I mean, I used to be kind of jealous of Petra,” Marco said, pushing passed his sudden mini-epiphany. “Like that one time you... Well, you kind of ignored me to talk to her while we were on a date.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “Really? We only talked for like, a minute.”

“You were talking for thirty minutes.”

“...Thirty minutes?”

“At least.”

“You were counting?”

“I started texting Jean because I felt awkward and kept seeing the clock on my phone.”

“Oh.”

“Then, when you went to see her after she broke up with her boyfriend, that made it kind of obvious.”

“...Oh.”

“So you and her are going to start seeing each other now?” Marco asked, smiling encouragingly. And a miracle happened: Levi smiled back.

It was fleeting, the kind of split-second smile he couldn’t control, and if Marco had blinked at the wrong time, he would’ve missed it, but Levi most definitely smiled. “Yeah, we are,” he said, his expression gone serious again.

“That’s great,” Marco said.

Levi blinked, staring at Marco like he didn’t understand. “You’re not upset at all?”

“Nope.”

“...Why?”

“Well, for one, I saw this coming,” Marco pointed out. “But... I mean, even if Petra wasn’t in the picture, we weren’t really working out, were we?”

Levi sighed in relief. “Fuck no. And I’m actually sorry about that, it was mostly my fault-”

“It wasn’t your fault!”

“Yeah, it really was,” Levi said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, you don’t have to pretend I was nice. I know perfectly well I can be an asshole. And I kept waiting for you to stand up for yourself but you never did and I was starting to feel kinda bad about it...”

“You... you _wanted_ me to stand up for myself?” Marco asked, thinking back with sudden regret all of those times he’d stayed silent because he was afraid of what Levi would think.

“Of course,” Levi said. “If no one stops me, I’m the _worst_.”

Marco chuckled and shook his head. “Amazing.”

“What’s amazing?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “So, Petra. She can stand up for herself alright?”

Levi actually let out a laugh. “Are you kidding? She would murder me before she would let me get away with my bullshit.”

Marco couldn’t believe it... He had been so afraid of Levi when all Levi wanted was someone who wasn’t afraid of him at all.

“So... we’re really okay?” Levi asked.

Marco nodded. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

“And if we run into each other... I mean, I imagine you’re not gonna stop going to Sawney and Bean’s anytime soon, so we’ll probably run into each other there,” Levi pointed out.

“Totally okay,” Marco assured him. “We can even say hi, if you want.”

Levi shrugged. “We’ll see,” he said through a smirk.

~~~

Though Jean and Ymir walked on to Sawney and Bean’s with some sort of new sense of camaraderie... Well, it wasn’t long before things got awkward.

Jean could guess why Ymir was uncomfortable. She had just said herself that she doesn’t talk enough, so bearing her soul to a random guy probably wasn’t something she was used to. Not to mention she’d admitted a _lot_ of personal stuff in a really short amount of time. As composed as her explanation seemed, it was probably a lot more than she had really planned on giving away. Even if Jean spilled his guts all the time, he could still understand the feeling.

Especially since _he_ had just given away a hell of a lot more than intended. Fuck, he hadn’t even been intending on giving _anything_ away. He didn’t even think there _was_ anything to give away, until Ymir got him going...

_How the fuck is it possible for me to not have realized I’m in so deep?_

There were certain things along the way that Jean was absolutely certain about his feelings over. When he and Marco first kissed, he didn’t like it. When Marco started dating Levi, Jean started disliking Levi more and more. When Jean cried on Marco’s shoulder, he felt a really intense closeness to Marco. And after Armin’s party, the idea of losing Marco was devastating.

All of these things were plausible under friendship, so Jean had just let it be. But... there were things that Jean couldn’t explain as easily. They still _could_ be friendship, but... well, Jean had just swept them under the rug, really, and ignored them and any weird connotations they might have. The most obvious example, of course, was the French love song, because there was absolutely no denying how much pleasure he got from seeing Marco so flustered. What did that mean though? While it was inexplainable before, the answer seemed clear: it was because Jean thought it was cute. It was absolutely no different than his high school girlfriend, when he used to tease her constantly because he liked it when she blushed.

Well, it was a little different. Jean liked Marco a hell of a lot better than his high school girlfriend.

Then there was that one particular cup of coffee... It was so dumb how much effort Jean put into that just because Levi ordered Marco some tea one time, but he did. He woke up early for that shit. And Jean wondered why he was doing it the whole time, but he just justified it as him wanting to do something nice, so why not? It didn’t even occur to him that he was trying to simultaneously one-up Levi, whom he was totally, totally jealous of. Fuck, had he been jealous of Levi... That fucking asshole. It didn’t help that Marco never mentioned the coffee afterwards. Jean had spent more time than he was proud to admit (even to himself) worrying what that meant. Did Marco not appreciate the gesture? Did it cross some sort of boundary? _Not even a fucking thank you?_

Each moment they’d spent together was like a puzzle piece that was finally coming together in Jean’s mind. _Fucking hell, no wonder Eren had immediately called me out on my feelings for Marco..._ Fuck, now that Jean understood his sexuality... _well, to an extent..._ realizing the fact that Jean was capable of falling for Marco made it so horribly clear that he already had, and fuck, did that create a lot of problems...

Jean and Ymir were just sitting across from each other, Ymir gently blowing on her coffee, lost in her own thoughts. It was black, just like Jean always took it. Except today. Getting his coffee black was just a recycled habit of his father’s, anyway. Today, Jean was waiting for his tongue to stop hurting after he’d burned it on the first sip of his latte. Two pumps caramel, two pumps mocha.

“Did I ever tell you how Marco and I met?” Jean piped up. He should’ve guessed that he would be the one to eventually break the silence... All of these memories of Marco racing around in his head, he needed to talk about it before his brain melted.

Ymir shook her head no, but looked interested enough in hearing the story. However, when Jean opened his mouth to speak, he was caught off guard by a loud, “Hey, Kirschtein!”

“Oh, fucking hell,” Jean grumbled, not even having to look up to see who the voice belonged to.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Jaeger?” Ymir deadpanned as Eren pulled up a chair and joined them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think getting tea was a crime,” Eren said, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t think you two would be on speaking terms, to be honest,” Ymir said with a raised eyebrow, braving a sip of her coffee.

Eren snapped his head towards Jean. “You _told_ her?”

“Yup.”

“Fuck, Jean, I didn’t think we were _telling_ people. I haven’t told a soul, except Mikasa-”

“You told _Mikasa_?” Jean snapped.

“Well, yeah, we tell each other everything,” Eren said innocently.

“She’s your _sister_.”

“Well, yeah, I didn’t tell her what position I fucked you in, but I told her that it happened.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jean groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“You really need a filter, Jaeger,” Ymir said, shaking her head.

“Apparently, so does Kirschtein...”

“What are you doing here, Eren?” Jean grumbled.

“I just wanted to talk, Jesus Christ.”

“About?”

“Anything. I’m bored. What are you guys talking about, anyway?”

“Marco,” Ymir said immediately. _God fucking damnit, Ymir..._

“Wait, seriously?” Eren said, sitting up a little. “Have you finally realized how bad you have it for him?”

“Wait, you talked about this with Eren?” Ymir asked. “I thought you said I was the first one you admitted it to.”

“I did not talk about this with Eren,” Jean snapped. “He guessed.”

“Guessed? Fuck no, I fucking _called_ that shit. So you do like Marco?”

Jean looked down at his lap. “Yeah, I do, okay?”

Ymir coughed out a poorly disguised, “ _Love_.”

“Wait, you love Marco? Holy shit, I-”

“No, I do not _love_ Marco, I-”

Ymir frowned. “But wait, you said-”

“ _I know what I said_. And it was all word vomit, remember? I mean... Yeah, I... I really like Marco... A lot... But I mean, it’s kinda too soon for it to be _love_ , isn’t it?”

“Whatever, it’s a fucking technicality,” Ymir said, rolling her eyes.

“Either way, you wanna date him, right?” Eren said.

The idea of dating Marco... It was still foreign in Jean’s mind... It was almost weird. But... he wanted to be with Marco all the time, and hold his hand, and call him stupid pet names, and kiss him... Oh, God, the idea of kissing Marco... _Fuck_ , he wanted it so bad, it was hard to believe that he had actually kissed Marco before...

“Fucking shit,” Jean hissed, taking a big gulp of his latte that ended up scalding his throat. _Shit._

“What?” Eren and Ymir asked.

Jean rubbed his eyes in frustration. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you two how Marco and I met. And you can’t tell a fucking soul, okay? Not Mikasa. Not Christa. _No one_. Okay?”

“Got it,” Eren said as Ymir nodded in agreement.

“Did someone say my name?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-_

“Oh, hey, Mikasa,” Eren said calmly as Mikasa pulled up a forth chair.

“Why didn’t you say that Mikasa was coming?” Jean hissed through gritted teeth.

Eren shrugged. “Slipped my mind.”

_Eren Jaeger, I swear to fuck, I’m going to murder you..._

“Just get on with the story,” Ymir snapped.

“What story?” Mikasa asked.

“How he and Marco met in the first place,” Eren said.

Mikasa turned her attention to Jean. “Oh, hey, are you two still fighting?”

“You two were fighting?” asked Ymir.

“Nah, they made up a couple of days ago,” Eren said.

“How the fuck do you know that?” Jean snapped.

“Armin,” Eren said casually.

“Wait, what were they fighting over?” Ymir demanded.

“Mikasa.”

“Wait, me?” Mikasa asked, looking back and forth between Jean and Eren.

“Would you stop fucking telling her things?” Jean growled.

Ymir looked confused. “Wait, why were you and Marco fighting over Mikasa?”

“We weren’t fighting over Mikasa, we-”

“You had a thing for Mikasa, didn’t you?” Ymir laughed. “Oh, and then with Annie... That is _great_.”

“Shut the fuck up, Ymir!”

“Wait, you had a thing for me?” Mikasa asked with wide eyes. “I always thought you and Marco were a thing!”

Jean groaned. “Fuck, did _everyone_ realize this shit before I did?”

“Yes,” Eren and Ymir said in unison.

“Wait, so you and Marco _are_ a thing?”

“Well, no, but-”

“They do have a date planned,” Ymir pointed out.

“Wait, _what_?” Eren gasped. “You didn’t fucking tell me that!”

“It’s not like that!” Jean insisted.

“But-”

“Wait-”

“How-”

“All of you, just _shut up_!” Jean snapped.

The three fell silent.

“Okay. I’ll tell you fuckers the whole story, okay? No interrupting me, no stupid questions, and if any of you fucking laugh, I will throw my fucking coffee in your face. Okay?”

The three nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” Jean said with a sigh. “The very beginning...”

And he told them everything. The date. The fraternity. Apologizing. Becoming friends. Levi entering the picture. Jean’s father entering the picture. Crying on Marco’s shoulder. The stupid French love song. The party. Mikasa and Annie. Yelling at Marco. Fucking Eren. Making up with Marco. Planning their date do-over. Marco and Levi breaking up.  And, all from just today, figuring out his sexuality and realizing that he had a big, fat, stupid crush on Marco.

“There you have it,” Jean grumbled, slumping back in his seat. “You’re allowed to speak now.”

“Fucking hell,” Eren said.

“You fucking idiot,” Ymir mumbled.

“Please tell me you and Marco are going to get together,” Mikasa pleaded. “Fuck, I don’t think I could handle it if you didn’t at this point.”

Jean chuckled bitterly. “Yeah, I don’t think Marco has any interest in dating me, after all the shit I’ve put him through. I’m lucky enough he still wants to be friends.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” Eren said. “Marco’s stuck with you this whole time. Maybe it’s because he likes you, too.”

“Why the fuck would he like me?”

“Believe me, Kirschtein, I have no fucking clue. But he obviously sees something in you.”

“Are you all forgetting that they’re going on a date?” Ymir reminded them. “For fuck’s sake, don’t sit here thinking about how maybe Marco likes him. Take him on that date and just see what his reaction is.”

Jean opened his mouth to speak, but immediately stopped when he glanced over at the door, and saw Marco, of all people, holding the door open for Levi.

_Of. All. People._

“What the fuck?” Ymir hissed when she saw what Jean was staring at.

“I thought you said they broke up!”

“They did!” Jean snapped. _Holy shit, did they get back together? Oh, my God, there’s no way Marco likes me... Fuck, he acted like he was all happy about their break-up, but he’s still hung up over him, holy-_

“Levi!” the barista squealed when she saw them enter. It was the ginger one, who’d had a hickey the other day.

Levi actually smiled, which was a first, and strode up to the counter, leaning over to kiss her hello.

“What the fuck?” Mikasa whispered.

“They’re together now?” Eren muttered. “That didn’t take long for Levi to find someone else...”

And something finally clunked into place in Jean’s mind. _Barista. Levi. Dating. Hickey._

_Hickey that appeared before Levi and Marco broke up._

_Levi fucking cheated on Marco._

~~~

Running into Levi on the way to Sawney and Bean’s was a pure coincidence.

Levi was quiet at first, unsure how to proceed, but Marco just smiled and greeted him, asking how he was and easily going into conversation. Levi relaxed after that, and they had probably the most casual conversation they’d had their entire relationship.

“Going to see Petra?” Marco asked. He had just seen Petra yesterday, when she personally called him and invited him to Sawney and Bean’s so they could talk. She wanted to completely assure him that nothing had been going on with Levi before they broke up, and she didn’t want him to think that she had stolen Levi or anything, and that she hoped they could still be friends, all that good stuff. Of course, Marco understood, and agreed to staying her friend. Petra was a sweetheart, after all. It was almost hard to believe that she, of all people, was the one tough enough to stand up to Levi.

“Yeah,” Levi admitted, another one of his fleeting smiles flickering onto his face. “You’re still okay with that?”

“Oh, of course,” Marco said, waving off Levi’s concerns.

“Petra talked to you yesterday, didn’t she?”

“Oh, yeah, she called me, like, ten minutes after we broke up. We talked about a lot of stuff. It’s totally cool.”

Levi sighed. “I... I mean, I really did want to leave some space between breaking up with you and dating Petra. That just seemed like the right thing to do. But, fuck, I couldn’t let her get away again...”

“Again?”

“Her fucking goddamn stupid ex-boyfriend, fucking Oluo motherfucking Bossard, that absolute cu-”

“Okay, I get it,” Marco interrupted. “He was an asshole.”

Levi scoffed. “He was the most arrogant piece of shit... And that’s me talking. Didn’t fucking appreciate her for one second like she should be appreciated... And they went out for fucking three years.”

“Three years?” Marco asked. “How long have you known her?”

“Four,” Levi said. “She was one of the first friends I made here... And I was completely head over heels for her from the very beginning, which I feel like a fucking sap for admitting, but hell, me being too afraid of admitting that shit is was got me into this mess in the first place. I’d just assumed she understood how I felt, and I thought that meant we were just kind of a thing, but then, out of the blue... fucking Oluo shows up...”

“I’m sorry,” Marco said sympathetically. It wasn’t quite the same thing, but... well, he did know what it felt like for some obnoxious guy (or in his case, guys) to show up out of the blue and ruin something.

“Don’t be, it was my fault for being a coward,” Levi grumbled. “But fuck, I can’t even explain how relieved I was when they broke up...”

“Do you know why they broke up?”

Levi shook his head. “She still doesn’t want to talk about.”

“She was really torn up about it, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how she manages it, but she always sees the best in people,” Levi said with a shrug. “She’s a fucking saint, being able to see past that fuckface’s shitty exterior... And mine, I guess. But yeah, I guess he had some deeper, third layer that was as shitty as the outside layer.”

“Like pie!” Marco immediately said, picking up on the reference.

“What?”

“Never mind.” _Guess it wasn’t a reference._

“Whatever. She show you her burn?”

“Oh, yeah,” Marco laughed. “The one on her neck?” Petra had showed it to him yesterday, with the wise words, “Never try curling your hair while you’re still sobbing about a break up.”

Levi smirked. “Looks exactly like a hickey, right?”

“Oh, seriously, until I looked at it up close, I was convinced it was one,” Marco said with a grin.

“She’s been getting looks from customers for days now,” Levi chuckled.

By this point, the two had reached the coffee shop, Marco stepping forward to get the door.

“Levi!” Petra gasped in delight. Marco couldn’t help but grin at Levi’s flickering smile again, the blush of pleasure that bloomed as he gave Petra a quick kiss hello. He felt a slight pang of jealousy, but it was definitely more at Levi having someone to kiss, rather than at Levi kissing someone else.

Marco glanced over at the other side of the restaurant, and his stomach immediately dipped as he saw Jean, _shit, does he look nice today,_ sitting with... Holy shit, was that Ymir? And _Eren_? _And Mikasa?_ The three least likely people to be sitting and having coffee with Jean were all there, staring quite suspiciously at Levi and Petra. Jean, however, looked more than suspicious. He almost looked enraged, slowly standing up from the table, eyes locked on Levi...

“Jean?” Marco heard Eren say. “What are you doing?”

“That fucking cheating asshole,” Jean snapped. He took a step forward but was immediately stopped by Eren putting a hand to his chest.

“Dude, what are you talking about?”

“I’m going to fucking strangle him,” Jean growled, still trying to push past Eren.

Marco quickly walked over to where they all now stood, holding Jean back, wanting to avoid a scene over whatever this was. “H-hey, Jean!” he said, putting on a cheerful smile.

Jean immediately froze, suddenly going limp against his friends’ holds on him. “Marco!”

Marco nodded to the other three. “Nice to see you guys. Eren, Ymir, Mikasa.”

“Hey, Marco,” Eren said back, seemingly feigning the same cheerfulness Marco was. Mikasa merely nodded back and Ymir just... laughed...? Marco wasn’t sure why, but yeah, Ymir was just laughing.

“How are you guys?” Marco asked, waiting for some sort of responsiveness from Jean. Whatever anger he’d been displaying a moment ago was now completely gone, and he was just staring at Marco, wide-eyed and emotionless.

“Fine,” Eren and Mikasa said in unison. Ymir kept laughing, now letting go of Jean to clutch her stomach instead as she doubled over.

“And you, Jean?” Marco prompted.

After another moment of staring, Jean finally seemed to snap out of it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, standing up straight and looking at the ground in a poor attempt to hide his reddening face. What’s up with him?

“That’s good,” Marco said encouragingly. _Did I do something wrong? He’s never acted this weird around me before..._

“So, uh, what are you and Levi doing here?” Eren asked.

“Oh, we just ran into each other on the way,” Marco quickly explained. “I was just gonna grab some coffee to go, and he wanted to meet Petra, since her shift is about to end-”

“Wait,” Jean interrupted, the rage suddenly back on his face. “Petra. That’s the barista’s name, right?”

Marco frowned in confusion. “You mean her?” Marco asked, pointing out Petra behind the counter. She was busy making Levi’s tea and laughing about something, which, whatever it was about, was making Levi blush. “Yeah, that’s Petra.”

“Levi’s dating her?”

“Yeah. But I mean, it’s totally okay, if that’s-”

“And he started dating her today?”

“Well, yesterday, right after we broke up.”

“What about over the weekend?”

“Just this last weekend?” Marco asked, getting more and more confused to what Jean was getting at.

“Yeah. Was Petra seeing anyone then?”

“S-she just broke up with her boyfriend Saturday night,” Marco explained.

“Dang, these people move on fast,” Eren muttered. Ymir shushed him.

“Were you with Levi Saturday night?” Jean demanded. “After the party, did you see him?”

 _Oh, shit, I never told him I slept with Levi... Is that was this is about? Did he find out? But then what does this have to do with Petra?_ “Yeah, I did.”

This made Jean hesitate. “Wait, you did?”

“Yeah. I mean, for a little while... Then he went and comforted Petra after she and her boyfriend broke up-”

And that got Jean back on track. “I knew it, that fucker,” Jean immediately shouted, attracting the attention of the other few customers in the shop. He immediately started for Levi again, slipping past Eren and Mikasa, but Marco was able to grab him, right around the shoulders, before he could get very far.

“Jean, what the hell are you doing?” Marco grunted, struggling to hold Jean back.

“He cheated!” Jean yelled, pointing at Levi, who looked merely annoyed at this sudden accusation. Petra was seemed to be surprisingly level-headed, too.

“Jean, Levi did not-”

“Yes, he did!” Jean insisted, still struggling. “I saw the hickey, goddamnit, I know he did!”

“They hickey?” Marco repeated.

“Oh, you poor fucking idiot,” Levi grumbled, shaking his head. “That’s what this is all about?”

“Don’t fucking try and talk yourself out of this!” Jean shouted.

“I don’t understand what he’s talking about,” Marco said desperately, since Levi seemed to understand, and Marco was pretty sure his ribs were going to bruise with Jean’s struggling against him.

“He’s talking about this,” Levi said dully, reaching over to Petra and pushing her hair off her neck.

“Her burn?” Marco said. _Oh. Oh, holy shit._

Jean suddenly stopped struggling. “Burn?”

“Yeah. Burn, you fucking idiot,” Levi said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jean was silent for a moment before he pushed against Marco again. “What is that, a fucking cover-up?”

“No, Jean, really, it’s a burn,” Marco insisted, holding onto Jean tighter and really wishing that his second time holding Jean for an extended period of time wasn’t to restrain him. “I had coffee with her yesterday, and she showed it to me. I looked at it up close. It’s a burn, it really is.”

Jean tensed up for a moment before completely going limp. “I... I’m sorry,” he mumbled, barely audible, despite the rest of the shop being silent. “I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Apology accepted!” Petra said with a grin. She looked around to the couple of other customers, who looked uncomfortable. “Baby baguettes for everyone, on the house!”

“She sure knows how to handle a situation,” Marco said with a nervous laugh, hoping to brighten up the mood a little. Jean still didn’t move.

“I... I thought...”

Marco sighed. “Jean, stand up.”

Begrudgingly, Jean complied, putting his weight back on his own two feet. Marco finally let go of him, and Jean turned to face him, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Marco tried to assure him. “If Petra’s okay with it, Levi’ll be, too.”

Jean said nothing.

“And... I really appreciate it.”

Jean looked up suspiciously. “Huh?”

“You standing up for me like that,” Marco said. “I mean, you were wrong, but if that’s your reaction to someone cheating on me... You’re a really great friend, Jean.”

Jean’s jaw practically dropped. “You think _I’m_ a great friend?”

“Absolutely,” Marco insisted. _I wish you would be a great boyfriend, but that’s beside the point._ “And... I forgive you now.”

“Really?” Jean said, his eyes going wide in sudden adorable innocence. _Fuck, do I want to kiss him..._

“Mmhmm! One-hundred percent.”

Jean finally cracked a smile, and the moment was only interrupted by Eren coming up and punching his arm.

“That was quite a show, jackass,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up, Jaeger.”

“I hope you weren’t planning on having your date here,” Mikasa pointed out. “I’m not sure management wants you back anytime soon...”

“Date?” Marco repeated, feeling his face go red. _Why does Mikasa of all people know about the date? He’s been telling people? He’s told the girl he was practically in love with less than a week ago? He’s been_ telling people _?_

“Oh, shit, was that supposed to be a secret?” Mikasa asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Jean insisted, although he was going a little red, too. “Right? I mean... we’re just going as friends, right?”

Ouch. That hurt a little more than Marco had expected it to. Still, he forced a smile. “Right. Friends.”

Ymir burst out laughing again. _What is her problem?_

Mikasa cleared her throat and tried to move on. “That has to be annoying, having a burn that looks like a hickey,” she said, glancing at Petra. “I mean, I kind of went through the same thing last week. I had all these bruises on my knuckles that made it look like I’d punched someone in the face.”

Marco raised his eyebrows. “What really happened?”

“Oh, I actually punched someone in the face.”

Jean’s eyes went wide. “What the fuck did you punch someone in the face for?”

“They found out about Annie and were making some jokes I didn’t appreciate.”

Eren and Ymir immediately nodded understandingly, while Marco and Jean exchanged a look. Clearly, both of them shared the sudden confusion. _Found out what about Annie?_

“Never mind,” Mikasa mumbled, pulling her scarf over her mouth. “It’s not important.”

“Wait, so where are you two gonna go on your date?” Eren said with a grin, nudging Jean in the ribs. Jean glared at him.

_Jesus, Marco, stop blushing._

Jean shot Marco a nervous glance. “Um, actually, mind if we talk about it in private?”

“That would be great,” Marco said, giving a shy smile back.

Ymir immediately slumped her shoulders. “Wait, but-”

“Thanks, Ymir, you’ve helped enough,” Jean said, ruffling her hair (to her annoyance) before walking with Marco out of the shop.

_Thank God that’s all over with._

“So,” Marco began, stretching out his shoulders a little. They kind of hurt from the death grip he’d had on Jean. “Why exactly were you having coffee with Ymir, Eren, and Mikasa?”

Jean immediately sighed exasperatedly. “I don’t even fucking know. I mean, what the fuck, right?”

Marco laughed. “Yeah, I mean, they were like, the last three people I expected to see you with.”

“I mean, it started with Ymir, which was weird, but okay, I guess... I mean, I guess we’re kind of friends now? She admitted some stuff she just didn’t really have anyone to talk to about, and we ended up at Sawney and Bean’s. Then fucking Jaeger comes. And-”

“Twice in one week,” Marco pointed out.

It took Jean a moment, but he got it. “Holy shit.”

Marco burst out laughing, unable to contain himself as Jean clapped his shoulder and asked repeatedly, “Did you really just make an ejaculation joke? Really, Marco? You, of all people?”

“Why ‘me of all people’?” Marco asked with a smile, wiping his eyes and feeling so happy that he could be this comfortable around Jean... He hadn’t felt this at ease with something in ages, especially not to the point of being able to make fun of what should’ve been a touchy subject. “It’s not like I don’t know about this stuff.”

“I guess,” Jean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, you and Levi fooled around a couple of times, right?”

Marco immediately rubbed his nose as a subtle way to hide his face, but Jean called him out on it immediately.

“Wait, what? What is it? Did something else happen?”

“Levi and I... might have... h-had... sex-”

“You _fucked_? And you never told me?!”

“There was never a good time to!” Marco insisted. And was definitely not gauging to see whether or not Jean was jealous. _No, definitely not._

Was he though? Why was it so impossible to tell?

“I mean, we ended up breaking up almost immediately afterwards,” Marco continued.

“Fuck, I still figured you’d tell me, after I told you about fucking Jaeger...”

“Sorry,” Marco said with a chuckle.

“Nah, you don’t have to apologize,” Jean said. “Just, I don’t know, first time taking it up the ass, that merits at least a text message, doesn’t it?”

Marco knew Jean was going for a laugh, but ended up staying silent... Shit. Should I correct him?

“What?” Jean asked, noticing Marco’s lack of reaction.

I shouldn’t correct him, right? It’s just a technicality. Right?

“Nothing,” Marco said.

“No, what is it?”

Damn. I’m gonna tell him.

Marco sighed. “It’s just... I, um, didn’t. Take it up the ass.”

Eren narrowed his eyes. “Wait, but I thought you said...”

Please just get the hint.

Oh, Jean got the hint.

“Wait, what?!” he snapped, a little louder than necessary. There was no one around, but still.

“Jean-”

“You fucking top Levi, of all fucking people, while I have to bottom for fucking Jaeger? What the fuck?!”

Marco burst out laughing all over again at that. _The guy I’m practically in love with is shouting about my sex life with my ex on a public street. Why the fuck am I laughing?_

Still, he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Caring so much about Jean, wanting him so badly, it seemed like he should want Jean all for himself, to ignore every past relationship he’s ever been in, and dismiss the idea that Jean could possibly be attracted to anyone else. It seemed like he should want to sweep his own history under the rug, and ignore any other man in his life romantically except for Jean. But it didn’t feel that way. Jean was, first and foremost, his best friend, after all. He wanted to date him, God, he wanted to date the crap out of him, but... That level of comfort. That being able to talk about anything. That was part of what made their relationship so great in the first place. It was great that they could joke about Eren or Levi. That Jean could have coffee with Mikasa. That Marco could hold the door for Levi on the way into Sawney and Bean’s. If they would have to have a relationship in which they pretended other people didn’t exist, then Marco didn’t really even want that relationship. He wanted to be able to talk about anything with Jean, just like it was now. He just wanted some damn hand-holding and making out thrown in, too.

“Done laughing?” Jean grumbled, though Marco could tell he wasn’t really mad.

He just grinned back. “Yup.”

“Okay. So, um, about our date...”

“Yeah?” Marco said a little too quickly. _Shit._

“Um, I was thinking Friday night?” Jean asked, his face going pink in the most adorable way. “I’ll stop by your place at seven, and I’ll take you to that same restaurant, and... well, we’ll just go from there?”

Friday. It wasn’t just an idea anymore, it was a plan. It had a time and a day and a location. Oh, God, this was too good to be true.

“Sounds good,” Marco said, trying to tone down the huge smile.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jean said, his face going even redder.

 _Maybe_ , Marco thought, watching Jean out of the corner of his eye as they walked. _Just maybe, he..._

~~~

Wednesday was the most fucking hectic day Jean had had since... Well, since Saturday. _What the fuck even is my life anymore?_ What with his chat with Christa and his confession with Ymir and his... attempt to beat up Levi... _Shit, that was embarrassing... How the fuck is Marco not holding that against me?_ Well, after all that, it was nice to spend Thursday not worrying about anything. All he had to do was fill in Armin on everything he’d missed and avoid Ymir as much as possible.

Then, all too soon and still not soon enough, it was Friday.

Jean couldn’t pay attention worth shit in any of his classes, and ended up having to beg people afterwards for copies of notes. He ended up being covered in that aspect, but it did nothing to solve his immediate problem, of taking Marco fucking Bodt on a date later that evening.

“Jean, you just have to relax,” Armin told him.

“How the fuck am I supposed to relax?” Jean said exasperatedly. “This is supposed to be a platonic date and all I wanna do is fucking kiss him.”

Armin blushed at that but managed to be cool. “I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you are.”

“Unless he likes me back, which he doesn’t, there’s no way he’s as nervous as I am.”

Armin sighed. “I didn’t want to say anything, just in case I’m wrong, but... I really do think Marco likes you.”

Jean groaned. “Please don’t get my hopes up, man.”

“Maybe you could just operate under the assumption that he does,” Armin suggested. “Like, flirt with him just as much as you would if he was already your boyfriend. And maybe then if he doesn’t already, he’ll subconsciously start to see you as his boyfriend.”

Jean just stared at Armin. “You don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

Armin narrowed his eyes. “How the fuck would I? I’ve never flirted with anyone in my life, remember?”

Jean just burst out laughing. “Wait, did you say ‘fuck’? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you curse before.”

Armin turned his head. “I think you’re rubbing off on me...”

Jean grinned and glanced at the clock. “Oh, shit, if I don’t leave now, I’m gonna be late!”

Armin raised his mug of tea in a toast. “Here’s hoping tonight ends with you rubbing off on Marco!”

Jean just froze and stared at Armin.

“Oh. Oh, no. No, that’s not how I meant it, oh, God, oh, no, please just leave, oh, God...”

~~

When Jean showed up at Marco’s dorm... Well, to be frank, he was _devastating_. It was like he could read Marco’s mind, all those times he’d absentmindedly thought, _that shirt looks good on him_ or _his ass looks great in those jeans_ , and decided to wear all of those items at once. Dark skinny jeans, a well-fitted T-shirt, a gray hoodie that Marco vowed to steal if, by some miracle, they ever did start dating. It was the perfect boyfriend hoodie. Just to top off Marco’s misery, Jean seemed to be having a good hair day, and his cologne was simultaneously like a warm hug and a punch in the face. All Marco wanted was to pull him inside and spend the evening kissing him instead.

“Hey, Jean!” Marco said cheerfully to cover up the feeling of _oh no, he looks_ too _good._

~~~

Jean couldn’t take Marco’s enthusiasm. All he wanted was to take Marco on an actual date, and fuck, was it painful taking him on this platonic fake-date. Did Marco feel the same way at all? Obviously not, or he wouldn’t be grinning like that...

And on top of that, he just had to look as adorable as possible. Realizing his own sexuality felt like Jean was giving himself permission to find things about guys attractive, and not in an objective sure-he’s-good-looking way but in a genuine _please-fuck-me-against-a-wall_ sort of way. And now that he had that permission, looking at Marco was torturous. He was fucking gorgeous. Jean had assumed before that his tanned skin was just residual from summer, but his skin was still that gorgeous caramel tone, dusted all over with freckles like cocoa. Oh, those evil, evil, freckles, making his smile look even brighter, pooling in just the right areas to emphasis his dimples and the crinkles around his eyes. And oh, those fucking eyes, as dark and warm as a cup of coffee. It should’ve been illegal for someone like Marco to go around all wide-eyed and innocent with those things, because it was practically lethal.

“Um, hey, Marco,” Jean said, trying to at least feign coolness. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me grab my wallet-”

“Oh, no, don’t bother,” Jean interrupted. “I mean, I asked you on this thing. This one’s on me.”

“O-Oh, um, okay,” Marco said, blushing slightly. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Jean said, his stomach dipping in pleasure from Marco’s seemingly pleased reaction.

Marco stepped out, locked the door behind him, and they were off.

~

“How have you already forgotten how to use chopsticks?”

“Dude, I swear to fuck, I’m doing it exactly how you taught me,” Jean insisted, trying and failing to pick up a single piece of beef.

Marco just laughed, muttering, “Stubborn as ever,” as he reached across the table and fixed Jean’s hand for him. Jean tried to be cool about it, but fuck, all he could think was _he’s holding my hand, he’s holding my hand, he’s holding my hand, he’s holding my hand..._

“There. Try now.”

And Jean did try again. And, like fucking magic, it worked.

“Holy shit, what am I always doing wrong?” Jean snapped.

“Told you,” Marco said with a laugh.

The two made eye contact and... for a moment, Jean thought that maybe... maybe they were thinking the same thing. Maybe they both were secretly hoping this date would lead to something else. Maybe they both thought this was going so well, and why would they ever date other people when it was so comfortable at this table, just the two of them?

_Maybe I should just ask him. I mean, he’d understand, wouldn’t he?_

But just as Jean opened his mouth to speak, his phone buzzed.

_Fuck._

“Who is it?” Marco asked casually as he ate a clump of rice off of his chopsticks. Show off.

“Connie,” Jean said dully.

_From Connie:_   
_what the fuck r u doing man_

“What’s it about?”

Jean frowned. “I’m not sure.”

_To Connie:_   
_???_

“Anyway,” Jean said. “Where were we?”

_Bzzt. Bzzt._

“Fuck, one sec...”

_From Connie:_   
_why r u taking Marco on a date_

Jean immediately looked around the restaurant. Was Connie there? How the fuck did he know Jean was taking Marco on a date.

_To Connie:_   
_it’s just as friends! and how do u even know??_

_From Connie:_   
_the waitress_

_To Connie:_   
_what about her_

_From Connie:_   
_that’s sasha, she’s been texting me updates_

“Fuck,” Jean breathed, staring at the message.

“What is it?” Marco asked.

“Sasha’s our waitress, apparently!” Jean said, trying to sound like Connie was merely sending him a fun fact instead of accusing him of something.

“Oh!” Marco said, nodding approvingly. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah, really cute,” Jean said. “B-But not that cute! I mean... she’s cute but... not my type of cute.” _Really fucked that up, huh?_

_To Connie:_   
_marco and i approve_

_From Connie:_   
_dont get off topic what r u doing_

_To Connie:_   
_dude like i said we’re just friends_

_From Connie:_   
_ya and thats the problem u jackass hes totally into u_

Jean felt like his world was exploding. There was no way his face wasn’t bright red, but he was too focused on his pounding heart and the fact that his brain no longer seemed to be capable of thought. It’s like it was simply impossible to compute, that Marco could be into him.

“You okay?” Marco asked, definitely noticing the reaction.

“Yeah!” Jean said immediately. Too quickly, really. “Yeah, I’m fine! Hold on, I’ll tell him I’m too busy with you to talk, okay?”

“...Okay,” Marco said, still looking a little suspicious.

_To Connie:_   
_???_

_From Connie:_   
_i mean he hasn’t told me but it’s so fuckin obvious its sad really. and u taking him on fake dates does help shit so stop leading him on_

Oh, God. Marco? Into him? Fuck, fuck, fuck... there’s no way Connie could be right... right? _Oh, fucking fuck..._

“Hey, boys!” the waitress said cheerfully, popping back up to refill their waters. “Everything tasting okay?”

“So you’re Sasha?” Marco asked with a friendly smile.

Her eyes went wide for a moment, but then she dropped the perky waitress act. “What, did Connie text you?”

“Yeah, he’s texting me,” Jean said, waving his phone and praying his face wasn’t red anymore.

Sasha sighed. “That idiot, I’m doing fucking reconnaissance for him and he goes and _tells you_...” she mumbled.

Marco looked confused. “Huh?”

“Nothing!” she said. “Wait, so we’re friends, right? Or friends through a mutual friend? Does that mean I can have that leftover egg roll?”

“Oh, yeah, um, go for it,” Marco said, holding the plate up. Sasha immediately snatched it up and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth.

“Thanks!” she said around her mouthful of food before walking away, still chewing.

“Yeah, she’s perfect for Connie,” Marco said, shaking his head and chuckling.

“Yeah, fucking perfect,” Jean grumbled, his head still reeling from Connie’s messages.

~~~

They even went on the walk.

The moon was out, just like it had been last time. And they were walking side by side, in silence, just enjoying each other’s company.

Platonically.

 _I am going to die if I have to do this much longer_ , Marco thought miserably, trying and failing to get up the courage again to hold Jean’s hand...

~~~

 _This is fucking torture_ , Jean thought to himself. The desire to kiss Marco had never been stronger than it was right now, walking beside him in the moonlight. It was a lot colder than it had been last time, and Jean was desperate to take Marco’s hand in his, or bury himself in Marco’s warm chest. Fuck, just fucking _something._

~~~

_Why does it have to be going so well?_

That’s what hurt the most. This date was going _so well_. The conversation had been light and easy and teasing and just... perfect. There had even been a cameo appearance from the infamous Sasha. That had to be some form of good luck, right?

But it wasn’t enough.

 _There’s no way I can make a move_ , Marco thought. _And there’s no way Jean would ever make a move._

~~~

_I have to make a move._

Connie said Marco was into him. That had to count for something, right? Connie was as dense as they come. If he thought it was obvious that Marco liked him... Fuck, that had to count for something, right?

_Just do it, Jean. For the love of God, you have to try._

What if you fuck up your entire friendship?

Jean gritted in teeth in resolve. He wanted Marco so bad... he didn’t care anymore. If he fucked everything up, he would sure as fuck care in the morning, but right now... Marco was beside him. Everything was perfect. And there was a chance Marco liked him.

Jean stopped walking.

~~~

Marco froze. “Jean?”

Jean said nothing. He did nothing, just staring at Marco with an emotion Marco couldn’t read.

“Hey, Marco,” he said softly.

“What?”

Jean seemed to be steeling himself, but just ended up tactlessly blurting out, “Can I kiss you?”

~~~

_Fuck. He’s not reacting. Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, say something, Marco..._

~~~

_Did he just say what I think he said?_

“W-what?” Marco squeaked out. _There’s no way._

“I-I asked if I could kiss you,” Jean repeated, looking absolutely terrified.

~~~

_Connie Springer, I am going to strangle you with my bare hands._

~~~

“W-why would you want to kiss me?” Marco managed, his heart beating so violently in his chest he felt like he could barely breathe.

“I don’t know!”

“Y-you don’t know?”

~~~

_You are fucking this up so bad._

“I don’t!” Jean repeated. “I mean... I didn’t think I could even like boys a few months ago. But apparently I can! I can, and now that I’ve realized that, I cannot stop thinking about kissing you. And... granted, that’s only been like, three days now, but still. I... I want to kiss you so bad. And hold your hand and take you on stupid dates and... Jesus Christ, Marco, is this a yes or a no?”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, why won’t he just answer? That’s it, he doesn’t like me, fucking-_

Jean’s thoughts came to a complete stop at the feeling of Marco’s lips suddenly against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this was kind of a clusterfuck of a chapter but I hope it was good!
> 
> So we're looking at one more chapter to tie up the story and I'll add a nice little epilogue and then we are done, my friends.
> 
> Thank you do everyone who has been sending me messages and nice comments, you are seriously the best and have made me so, so happy.
> 
> (WE MADE IT, FOLKS)


	15. I Hate You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, before we finish this off, I have a few thank yous.
> 
> First of all, thank you to tumblr users thecuddlyfork, ohsnapciera, and one anonymous message for naming Marco's family!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who follows my tumblr.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who sent me kind messages (especially those that I was too embarrassed to reply to. I'm sorry I'm so lame, and your messages mean the world to me).
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left me nice comments. If it weren't for the comments, I definitely would've given up around chapter four.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left kudos and bookmarked the fic.
> 
> Thank you to those who were here from the beginning.
> 
> Thank you to those that just picked this up last week.
> 
> Thank you to the friends I've made because of this (you know who you are).
> 
> Thank you Nico and Sarah (notfarlan and salsamaster) for beta-ing the chapter for me.
> 
> Thank you to Jacob (brownievore) for freaking out about how much you liked this. Your enthusiasm was really important to me.
> 
> And the biggest thank you of all goes to Gayle (goodfinders). Gayle is the reason that this is more than a sad one-shot, and she gave me so much support during the writing of this, I'm getting kind of emotional just thinking about it. If you're on tumblr, you should send her a thank you. Really. She completely deserves it.
> 
> And with that, here's the chapter. I love you all so, so, so much.

Kissing Jean was the most terrifying thing Marco had ever done in his life.

It didn’t feel real. None of it felt real. Jesus, Marco had barely gotten his head around the fact that Jean had slept with Eren a week ago, and was still trying to process the fact that Jean could potentially be attracted to a guy, could fall in love with a guy, could fall in love with _him_ , and... Here Jean was. Asking for permission to kiss him, as casually as asking if he wanted to order pizza.

Okay, so that was an exaggeration. Jean looked like he might cry. Which didn’t usually happen when it came to ordering pizza.

Still, though, none of this felt real in the slightest. It was like one of those dreams that, when your alarm clock inevitably woke you up from it, you spent the entire day afterward thinking of clever ways to destroy your clock out of revenge, because you wanted to spend an eternity in that dream, and waking up was almost physically painful.

Hearing Jean say those things _was_ physically painful. In the best possible way, of course, but it was like knocking down this massive wall inside Marco, one that had been holding back his all of his crazy desire, and his urges to kiss Jean and hold him and touch him and tell him how beautiful he is. That barrier was ripped apart in less than a minute, and... fuck, having Jean ask if he could kiss him made it physically impossible not to lean in immediately.

But even as he was leaning forward, even as his lips _made contact_ with Jean’s, there was still that doubt.

There was no way this could’ve been fraternity prank part two, but Marco couldn’t help but be afraid that it was. What if Eren was in on this, too, and they hadn’t even slept together? What if Mikasa was in on it and she and Jean were secretly dating? What if a thousand things that Marco had believed, all the little things that had built up to make this moment possible, all proved to be false?

Because, well, he _had_ kissed Jean before.

The moment Marco’s lips hit Jean’s wasn’t anything new. There was something almost sickeningly familiar about it, with the bad memories associated with that last kiss. The humiliation, the crushing disappointment, the complete shattering of trust he had developed with Jean in just those few hours they’d spent together, all came bubbling back to the surface, only getting stronger and stronger the longer Jean just stood there, frozen in shock at Marco’s boldness.

And for a few seconds, Marco thought his doubts were right. Jean’s few seconds of hesitation were enough to entirely convince Marco that he was going to have to pull away to Jean’s laughter, to him saying, “Dude, I was kidding!” That something had gone wrong somewhere along the line, and Marco had just made a horrible, horrible mistake.

But then Jean kissed back.

Jean threw his arms around Marco’s neck, completely pressed himself against Marco, let out a soft sigh and moved his lips against Marco’s, and... fuck, how could Marco doubt him after _that_? It wasn’t the same kiss anymore; it was something _entirely_ different, and Marco immediately learned just how different Jean was when he actually meant a kiss.

The last kiss they’d shared had been sweet at the time, but God, _nothing_ could compare to the passion Jean had now, the sheer desperation in his hold on Marco, the needy whine in his voice as Marco kissed him harder and he let out a small but undoubtedly involuntary moan. Fuck, after that, there was no doubt in Marco’s mind that Jean had been telling the truth, that he really did want him as badly as he’d said and worse. And _fuck_ , did it feel amazing to know that Jean wanted Marco just as badly as Marco had wanted Jean.

Marco wrapped his arms around Jean’s waist to pull him as close as possible, absolutely loving the feeling of Jean scratching his shoulder as he took a fistful of his shirt in his hand. And he couldn’t stop smiling. Shit, this was supposed to be the part where they stood passionately kissing for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes before heading back to one of their places to make love for the night, whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears because they were finally together. But Marco was ruining all of that because he couldn’t kiss properly because he could _not_ stop smiling.

Jean pulled his lips away, but in no way let go, staying just as close to him as he rested his forehead against Marco’s so they could talk. “Fucking fuck, is this really happening right now?”

“It doesn’t feel real,” Marco breathed, still grinning like an idiot. “So you really...?”

“Are you kidding? I’m crazy about you, Marco, how could I not be?”

Marco was about to burst into tears with how happy he was. “Really?”

“Yes. Fuck, I’ll say it as many times as you want me to, whatever you want, Marco. Fuck. I’m just so happy you feel the same, holy fucking fuck...”

“Of _course_ I feel the same,” Marco laughed.

“I just thought... I mean, is this why you and Levi broke up?”

“Oh, no, well, Levi and I broke up because of Petra,” Marco admitted. “If you had been the reason I’d broken up with Levi... Well, I would’ve broken up with him a _while_ ago.”

“What? How long ago?”

“Like... the night after your dad came to visit...” Marco mumbled.

“ _That long_? And you never said anything until _now_?”

“Why, how long have you liked me?”

“I... Well, it’s complicated.”

“How complicated?”

“Like, I didn’t realize I liked you until a few days ago. Wednesday, to be exact.”

Marco felt the color drain out of his face. Wednesday? The day he’d run into Jean at Sawney and Bean’s, and Jean was acting weird? Was _that_ why he was acting weird? Was that why he reacted so violently when he thought Levi was cheating on Marco? Was that why he had gotten so blush-y when he set a time and place for their date? _Wednesday?_

“But Jesus, Marco, I started liking you _long_ before then,” Jean continued. “Like... I don’t even know when it started. I’ve been jealous of Levi almost the whole time without realizing it. And when I sang you ‘For Me, Formidable’, that was definitely gay as hell. At the very latest, I fell for you the same night you starting liking me... And I fucking fucked Jaeger because I was a fucking mess because I thought you were never going to talk to me again and that broke my _heart_ , Marco, and... Honestly, I have no idea how I realized it so late.”

Marco leaned forward and pressed another light kiss to Jean’s lips. _Jesus, I can’t believe I can actually do that. It still doesn’t feel real._ “I’m just glad you like me at all, I don’t care when you realized it.”

This was kind of a lie, because Marco was unbelievably happy that Jean had liked him for so long, but that wasn’t important.

Jean chuckled. “You fucking liar, I can tell, you’re so damn pleased.”

_Damn._

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Jean said, leaning in to steal a kiss of his own. He let out a content sigh. “I’ve never kissed someone like this before, with me putting my arms around _their_ neck...”

“Have you had girls kiss you like that before?” Marco asked, out of genuine curiosity and not jealousy. Jean was in his arms, after all. They could talk about anything, and Jean was in his arms. Jean was in his arms... Fuck, that was all Marco needed.

“Yeah,” Jean admitted.

“Which do you like better?” Marco asked. “Girls doing that to you or you doing that to someone else?”

“Definitely doing it to _you_ ,” Jean said. Marco was slightly ashamed of how ridiculously happy that made him. Then again, literally everything Jean was doing and saying was making him ridiculously happy. “I mean, I might be biased, because it’s you, and I like you a thousand times better than anyone I’ve ever kissed, but yeah, this is a nice position to kiss in.”

“I’ll kiss you like this as long as you want.”

“Not if you can’t stop smiling for a couple minutes.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

Marco leaned in and managed to keep his face under control long enough to exchange another long, soul-shatteringly good kiss with Jean.

“I’m going to be so good to you,” Jean mumbled, their lips barely even separated once they’d _technically_ pulled away. “I know I’ve been an absolute dick, but I’m going to be so good to you.”

 _That’s it. I’ve definitely died and gone to heaven._ “So you’re my boyfriend now?”

“Of course I’m your boyfriend,” Jean muttered. “And you’re mine, and I’m gonna be so, so good to you. That’s a promise.”

“A promise?”

“Yup.”

“Could you almost call it... a _pledge_?”

There was a pause before Jean suddenly pulled his head back. “Did you _really_ just-?”

Marco immediately burst out laughing, and the two let go of each other.

“I can’t believe you. You’re bringing this up now? I can’t fucking believe you.”

Marco was doubled over laughing, wheezing out a half-hearted, “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist!” and gasping for breath between words.

“I changed my mind, I’m going-”

“Jean, wait!” Marco called through his laughter, following Jean as he pretended to storm off. “Jean!”

“You absolute loser.”

“Jean, wait!”

“Can’t believe you’re my fucking boyfriend.”

“I’m still your boyfriend, though, right?” Marco said with a grin.

“Of course you’re still my boyfriend, you loser,” Jean grumbled, letting Marco catch up before taking his hand in his.

“Where are we going?” Marco asked, finally getting a hold of himself and pressing a kiss to Jean’s cheek, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Back to my dorm.”

Marco felt like his heart skipped a beat. “R-really?”

“Oh, shit, not like that,” Jean said quickly. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I’m quite up for _that_ just yet, y’know?”

“Oh, no, me neither,” Marco agreed. Then he paused. “But, like, we can still do other stuff, right?”

Jean laughed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you want, man. Jesus, who know you were so thirsty?”

“Shut up.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I didn’t say I hated you!” Marco immediately protested.

Jean grinned. “It was implied.”

“Maybe I do hate you.”

“You like me and you know it.”

“Unfortunately,” Marco sighed.

“Loser.”

“ _Bigger_ loser.”

“You’re perfect,” Jean said with a grin, shaking his head.

Marco bit his lip to hide his thousandth smile in the last ten minutes.

Jean sighed. “I still can’t believe this is actually happening...”

“You can’t believe it? C’mon, you were so trying to make something happen tonight.”

“No, I wasn’t!” Jean immediately protested. “It was all just in the moment, I swear!”

“Yeah, right! You’ve been adorable all night, you jerk.”

“ _Me_? _You’re_ the one who’s been adorable, asshole.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been laying it on so thick,” Marco said dramatically. “You cannot tell me it was all on accident.”

“It was!” Jean insisted.

“What, you really forgot how to use chopsticks already?”

“Like it’s hard to believe I’m stupid enough?”

“Well, no, but-”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Marco said, squeezing Jean’s hand.

“What about you?” Jean countered. “All dressed up... You’re going to give someone a heart attack.”

“Dressed up?” Marco asked, immediately turning bright red.

“Dude, you look so fucking good. It’s been torture all night.”

“You’re joking!” Marco said. “I’ve been thinking the same about you this whole time!”

“What the fuck’s been wrong with us?” Jean laughed.

“I don’t even care anymore,” Marco said honestly. “I’m just glad we’re okay now.”

~~~

When they got back to Jean’s dorm, Marco decided to wait outside a moment while Jean had to ask if Armin would spent the night at Eren’s. Jean didn’t bother closing the door behind him, figuring this wouldn’t take much time anyway.

“Hey, Armin,” Jean said, trying to sound pleasant. “Would you-”

“Hold on,” Armin interrupted, standing up from his bed as soon as he saw Jean. “I’ve been giving this a lot of thought and I _really_ think Marco likes you.”

Jean heard a snort of poorly disguised laughter from the hallway. _Marco, I swear to shit..._

“Armin-”

“No, really,” Armin insisted, his face set in determination. “After you left, I started thinking about everything you two have been through over the past month and I _really_ think he likes you.”

“Armin-”

“Just hear me out. I analyzed everything you’ve told me about you two. Look, I even took some notes.” He picked up his laptop and turned it around and, sure enough, there was a Word document full of bulleted points. Some were even highlighted. Jean definitely wanted to have a look at that, but for the love of God, _later._

“Armin-”

“Oh, and the date! How did the date go?”

 _Christ._ “Really well, but Armin-”

“See? I really think you should just confess.”

“Armin-”

“Eren thinks so, too, I was just texting him. And Mikasa agrees with him.”

“ _Armin_ -”

“So will you please at least _consider_ it, Jean?”

Without another word for Armin to interrupt, Jean stepped back, reached into the hall, grabbed Marco’s arm, and dragged him inside, gesturing grandly at him and saying again, “ _Armin_.”

Armin finally stopped talking, staring at Marco with a slowly reddening face. “I... H-how well, exactly, did this date go?”

“Would you mind spending the night at Eren’s?” Jean asked with a sigh.

“Of course,” Armin said, still staring at Marco as he grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys off of his desk. “I-I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Armin.”

“No problem,” Armin squeaked, slipping out the door, and closing it softly behind him.

“Holy hell, was that awkward,” Jean said, sighing and falling back onto his bed.

“I hope that didn’t completely kill the mood, because I still have every intent of making out with you for the next few hours.”

Jean sat up a little. “ _Hours_? Fuck, why didn’t I know you were this desperate?”

Marco just shook his head and chuckled as he sat himself next to Jean, leaning down to kiss him again. _Shit, was that sexy..._

Jean hummed softly, still so fucking in love with the way Marco’s lips felt. “Fuck, how do I deserve this? I don’t deserve it. How the fuck do I, of all people, deserve you?”

“You’ll have earned everything and more if you just shut up and let me kiss you,” Marco mumbled.

Jean let out a laugh in surprise. “ _Dude._ Is this how it’s going to be for the foreseeable future?”

“Probably.”

“Good.”

~

Basically, after that, the making out just came in waves. Sometimes, the open-mouthed, tongue-heavy kisses just ended up dissolving into soft, sweet kisses shared in between mumbled conversations. Other times, they just had to slow down because someone was starting to get too hard for comfort. Once things had cooled down enough, they were right back at it again. And Jean felt like he was absolutely drowning in happiness. Fuck, he wanted to spent the next year just in this bed with Marco, he-

_Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock knock-_

“Who the fuck is at the door?” Jean snapped, prepared to murder whoever was interrupting after Jean was finally ready to start making out again.

“Just go see,” Marco mumbled. “It’ll probably be quick.”

“But-”

“Go,” Marco insisted, pushing Jean off the bed and making him fall to the floor, on his ass, with a dull thud.

Jean immediately burst out laughing in surprise. “Shit, Marco, who knew you were such a dick?” He got himself up, rubbing his newly sore ass (but holy shit, not in _that_ way) as he went to answer the door.

“ _Jaeger_?”

“Shit,” Eren huffed, clearly out of breath and red in the face. He leaned against the doorway, wheezing. “Shit. Is... Jesus Christ, I need to work out more... Is Armin here?”

Jean made a face. “What? I thought he was with you!”

“Huh?” Eren said, narrowing his eyes. He pulled out his phone to check if he had any messages and, sure enough, there were about ten missed calls from Armin. “Oh, shit! Shit, I gotta run-”

“Hold on,” Jean said, grabbing Eren’s arm. “What’s the big emergency?”

Eren frowned. “It’s not of your business, that’s what.”

Jean let out a laugh. “Are you serious? You sprinted all the way here and you won’t tell me why? You are so fucking childish. Just tell me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s stupid.”

“If it’s so stupid then tell me.”

“ _Kirschtein_ -”

“You two, shut _up_ ,” Marco groaned, getting out of bed and joining Jean at the door.

“Oh, shit, Marco, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here,” Eren said quickly. “I’ll just...” He trailed off after getting a look at the two of them, side by side. Maybe it was Marco wearing Jean’s sweatshirt. Maybe it was the fact that both of their lips were red and swollen from the excessive making out. Maybe it was the red bite marks on Jean’s neck. Whatever the clue, Eren definitely understood. “ _Really_?”

“Yup,” Jean said, putting an arm around Marco’s shoulders.

“I fucking _knew it_!” Eren said, punching his fist in the air victoriously. “Oh, I so fucking called that!”

“Yes, you’re a genius,” Jean said, rolling his eyes. “Now go find Armin.”

“Wait...” Eren said, putting up a hand to block the door as Jean tried to close it.

“What, _now_ you wanna tell me?” Jean snapped.

“I...” Eren let out some weird noise out of frustration, something between a growl and a yell. “Do you... Do you know what Armin’s deal is?”

Jean hesitated. “What, like his sexuality? Don’t you know?”

“No, I mean, I know he’s ace... Well, I mean I know that _now_...”

Jean tilted his head. “Wait, what do you mean by _that_?”

“I mean, I told you what happened with the Test, didn’t I?”

“Not really,” Jean said, crossing his arms. “All you ever said was that you ‘confirmed Armin’s heterosexuality’. Which wasn’t even true. And all Armin said was that he chickened out before you even kissed him. That’s all I know.”

Eren actually looked pretty discouraged. “That’s... that’s all he ever said?”

“What, there’s more to the story?”

“I...” Eren looked down and ran his fingers through his hair. “That... wasn’t just supposed to be a Test.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... I... It was a Test, but... It was supposed to be my _moment_ , y’know?”

“Your moment?” Jean asked.

“Yeah, y’know, like...”

Jean still didn’t get it, but after a moment, Marco gasped in understanding. “ _No_.”

“Yeah,” Eren said miserably.

“Wait, I still don’t understand,” Jean said.

“Oh, jeez, Eren, that’s _rough_.”

“ _Will one of you fucking tell me_ -”

“I thought that was when Armin and I were gonna... y’know, get together,” Eren admitted.

Jean’s jaw nearly dropped. “Wait, you _like_ Armin?”

“Congratulations, you’ve solved it,” Eren said sarcastically, clapping Jean on the shoulder.

“But then...” Oh, fucking hell, that _was_ rough... Thinking that was gonna be your moment and then... “Shit, dude.”

Eren shrugged. “Don’t feel sorry for me, it’s not like it’s Armin’s fault or anything.”

“So what are you running after him for now?” Marco asked.

“I... That’s why I need to know his deal,” Eren said. “Like, he’s asexual, but is he aromantic too?”

“Wait, there’s a difference?” Jean asked.

“I’ll take that as an ‘I don’t know’. Perfect. I guess I’ll just have to wing it.”

“Have you tried asking Christa?” Jean suggested. “I mean, she’s the one Armin always asked when he was figuring this stuff out in the first place.”

“Yeah, I already tried that,” Eren said. “She’s not answering her phone.”

Jean frowned. “Really? That doesn’t seem like her.”

“Maybe she’s got a cold or something,” Marco suggested.

“Well, whatever it is, it better be good,” Eren grumbled. “Okay. Off to see if I can get Armin Arlert to hold my hand sometimes. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck!” Marco called as Eren turned and walked away.

“Luck!” Jean wished, toasting an imaginary drink.

~

Jean had been under Marco for a lot of that evening, but by the time they’d actually fallen asleep, they were side by side in Jean’s bed. Jean ended up waking up with Marco’s arms holding him tightly against him like a teddy bear. It was a little constricting, but Jean didn’t mind in the least. It was seriously the happiest he’d been in... well, forever.

It didn’t take long after Jean had woken up for Marco to stir as well. “Morning,” he said sleepily, blinking against the harsh light from outside. _Adorable asshole._

“Morning,” Jean said back, burying his face against Marco’s shoulder.

“You didn’t realize you were straight overnight, did you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“And you still wanna be my boyfriend?”

“Of course.”

Before Marco could ask anything else, Jean’s phone started ringing. He wiggled out of Marco’s arms, letting out a groan that turned into a yawn as he went to his desk to see who was calling him this early on a Saturday morning.

_Calling: Dad_

Oh, no. Oh, fucking no. _Of all people._ No. _No no no no no-_

“Who is it?” Marco yawned.

 _My dad cannot be calling now. Not after I just spent the night with my fucking_ boyfriend _. No, no, no..._

_Fuck, I don’t want to answer... but I know it’ll be worse if I wait... Fuck, fuck, fuck..._

“Jean?”

“It’s my dad,” Jean said quickly before answering the phone.

“Jean.” His dad’s voice did not sound pleased.

“H-hey, dad,” Jean said, trying desperately to pretend like everything was totally normal. He saw Marco sit up in bed out of the corner of his eye.

“A little bird in the counseling department told me you changed your major.”

_Fuck. Who the fuck told him that? Fucking fuck. Does he have connections literally everywhere? Fuck..._

“Y-yeah, I did.”

“From business.”

“Y-yes.”

“To _French_.”

“Y-y-yes, s-sir.”

“Care to explain?”

Jean was shaking so badly, he had to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. Marco immediately stood up and pulled Jean into his arms, hugging him from behind and whispering, “It’s okay,” into Jean’s ear.

“Fuck, Marco, help,” Jean squeaked out.

“It’s okay,” Marco said. “Just talk to him. It’ll be okay.”

Jean put his hand on Marco’s, where it was sitting around his waist, and put the phone back up to his ear.

“Jean? Are you still there?”

“Y-yeah, I am,” Jean said, clearing his throat and trying to focus on the warmth on his back and the tightness of Marco’s arms. “I ch-changed it because... I h-hate business. Okay? I hate it so much, I just... I couldn’t do it anymore. I-I’m not going to start working for the company.”

There was a long silence after that. Jean kept digging his nails further and further into poor Marco’s hand, but Marco said nothing about it, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Jean’s neck.

“Dad?”

“Is this about a girl?”

“ _What_?”

“I’m trying to figure out why you would suddenly have this change of heart. I mean, you’re throwing away your entire future, Jean. Is it for a girl?”

“No, it’s not for a girl.”

Marco tightened his arms around Jean’s waist. _Yeah, damn right, it’s not for a girl._

“Then why-”

“I have literally always hated business,” Jean interrupted, surprising even himself. “I hated economics and accounting, and dealing with people, and the idea of meeting with clients and associates makes me want to throw up. I never wanted any of this.”

More silence. Marco kissed the back of his neck again, halfway between his hairline and his shoulders.

Jean’s dad finally sighed. “Why don’t we talk about this when you come home this week?”

 _Oh, holy shit._ Jean had completely forgotten about Thanksgiving. Fuck, he was supposed to be heading home _tomorrow._

Jean again pulled the phone away from his ear, pulling away from Marco just enough so he could turn around in his arms.

“I completely forgot about Thanksgiving,” he whispered, now face to face with Marco. Fuck, everything had be so perfect last night... He should have fucking known it wasn’t going to last. _Fucking-_

“Do you want to stay at my house?” Marco asked quickly.

Jean blinked. “What?”

“For Thanksgiving. Come home with me instead.”

Jean hesitated. “Marco, I... What about your parents?”

“Trust me, they would be more than happy to have you.”

“...But-”

“Jean, if you don’t _want_ to come to my house, that’s completely okay. But literally anything else that’s holding you back, we can deal with. I don’t want you to go stay with your father if you don’t have to.”

Jean paused again, and heard a faint, “Hello? Jean, are you still there?” coming from his phone. He brought it back to his ear.

“Yeah, I’m still here, Dad.”

“Jean, this really needs to stop, you-”

“I’m not coming home for Thanksgiving, Dad.”

More silence. _I’m going to have a fucking heart attack one of these days._

“Is that so?”

“Y-yeah, that’s so.”

“Where are you going instead?”

_Oh, fuck. I could say it, couldn’t I? Should I? It’ll probably make things worse..._

_Then again, it’s probably just going to get worse from here, anyway._

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s.”

Marco gasped.

“You’re joking,” Jean’s father said immediately.

“Not at all.”

“But you’re not gay.” _Look at that, he actually said the word._

“N-no, I’m not,” Jean confirmed. “It’s called h-heteroflexible. I-I’d be happy to explain it for you, if you want.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

Jean was shaking worse than ever, and Marco kept holding him tighter and tighter against him, whispering, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

“Y-yeah, it is,” Jean said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Google it, if you have to. I-it still doesn’t change the fact that I have a boyfriend.”

“Son, please, let’s talk about this-”

“ _No_ ,” Jean said firmly, completely disregarding that word he’d always worked so hard for. _Son._ It didn’t matter anymore. Jean was going to be a good person, and the first step was cutting ties with the man who had made him so angry at the world in the first place. “I’m going to stay with Marco’s family this week.”

“Marco?” Jean’s father repeated. “He’s the one that turned you gay?”

“He didn’t _turn me_ ,” Jean snapped. “If anything, it was your _shitty parenting_!”

Then he hung up the phone.

“I... I am _so_ fucking dead,” Jean whined, his swell of confidence quickly dwindling away.

“I’m so proud of you,” Marco said, pulling Jean into a kiss. “Really, I am.”

“You sure your parents won’t mind? Because I can’t really back out of this now...”

“I swear, they’re going to _love_ having you,” Marco insisted. “I mean, I’ll call them right now, if you want.”

“That’d be great,” Jean said, sighing and taking a step back from Marco so he could get his phone.

“...You don’t really think it was _bad parenting_ that made you semi-gay, do you?” Marco asked as he dialed the number, glancing up at Jean.

“Oh, of course not,” Jean said. “Besides, I absolutely refuse to think that he had any part in making something as great as this happen.”

“But... I mean, he kinda-”

“Nope.”

“I mean, if you hadn’t been so upset that one night-”

“Nope.”

“But that was when I realized-”

“Nope.”

“Alright then,” Marco laughed. “It was just us.”

Jean smiled and bowed his head, Marco pulling him in close to his chest. He was just so fucking warm and cozy... Nothing could ever be wrong in Marco’s arms.

Marco pressed a kiss to the top of Jean’s head before pulling away. “Okay, seriously, I’ll call them now.”

“You’re _sure_ they’re going to be okay with this?”

“Absolutely.” Marco sat down on Jean’s bed to make the call, so Jean crawled onto the bed and sat behind him, resting his forehead against Marco’s spine as he listened.

“Mom?”

“Marco!” Jean heard a voice squeal through the receiver. “How are you, sweetie? It’s been so long since you called!”

Marco laughed. “I’m great, Mom. How’re you and Dad?”

“Oh, we’re fine. Dad’s started this new diet for his heart and, well, you can imagine how well that’s going.”

“Does he get a day off it for Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t think I could get him to stay on the diet on Thanksgiving if I tried,” she laughed. Jean immediately liked Marco’s mom.

“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” Marco said, “is it okay if I, uh, bring someone?”

His mother gasped. “You’re _bringing someone_?”

“Yeah, uh, I kind of have a boyfriend, and...”

“HENRY! Henry, get down here! Marco’s got a boyfriend!”

“Mom, stop shouting-”

“Oh, Marco, sweetie, I’m so happy! I was hoping you would meet somebody! What’s his name?”

Marco sighed. “His name’s Jean.”

Jean couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride in his chest. That was Jean, Marco’s new boyfriend. Marco’s boyfriend, Jean. It was a title he could _easily_ get used to.

“Oh, your father’s here! Henry, you need to book another plane ticket, Marco’s bringing his boyfriend home for Thanksgiving!”

“ _Mom_ ,” Marco whined. “Relax a little.”

As worked up as Marco’s mom was getting, Jean couldn’t help but feel a little jealous that Marco could talk about this with his family like this. Even if Jean had announced a girlfriend, the best he could’ve hoped for was a, “That’s nice, dear,” from his mom or a, “She better be pretty or your children are going to be doomed,” from one of his sisters.

“I am so sorry, Marco Bodt,” his mom said sarcastically. “Oh, does he have any food allergies I should know about? Oh, and where is he going to sleep? Aunt Gisella is already going to be in the guest room!”

“Can’t he just sleep in my room, Mom?” Marco mumbled. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

Marco’s mom sighed. “If you say so...”

“Nothing’s gonna happen!”

“ _Food allergies_.”

Marco pulled the phone away from his ear. “Have any food allergies?”

“Nope.”

“No, Mom, he doesn’t have any.”

“Is he _there_ with you?”

“Yeah, he, uh... We’re out getting coffee,” Marco lied. _Smooth, Bodt._

“Put him on the phone!” she squealed. “I wanna talk to this boy!”

“Mom, you are literally going to see him tomorrow!” Marco hissed.

“Sweetie, stop getting so embarrassed. This is what girls do. Let me talk to him.”

Jean laughed. “It’s okay, Marco, I can talk to her.”

“You can’t hold me responsible if she says anything embarrassing,” Marco said as he passed the phone over.

“Hello?” Jean said after clearing his throat.

“Hi, Jean!” Marco’s mom said, suddenly sounding very forcedly calm, her voice ascended an octave or two. Was that a mom thing, to change your voice when talking to strangers on the phone? “I’m Julie Bodt, Marco’s mother.”

“Jean Kirschtein,” Jean said. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Bodt.” _Does it count if it’s over the phone? Eh, whatever. It’ll still make a nice impression._

“Oh, please, call me Julie.”

“Sure thing, Julie.”

Marco leaned in close to the receiver. “Okay, you talked to him. Done?”

“Marco!”

“He gets so worked up, doesn’t he?” Jean laughed.

“Oh, no, you two are not having this conversation,” Marco immediately insisted, snatching the phone away from Jean. Jean was just laughing, and he could hear Mrs. Bodt laughing too. _First impression. Nailed it._

“Alright, Marco, we’ll get the plane sorted out and get back to you,” Mrs. Bodt said, still giggling.

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too. Bye!”

“Bye, sweetheart!”

And Marco hung up.

“I really like your family already,” Jean said.

Marco looked like he was about to protest, but stopped. Probably because he knew that their borderline-smothering closeness was exactly what Jean had always wanted, and that Jean had to work his ass off to get called “son” when Marco’s mom couldn’t stop squealing about how excited she was the Marco had found someone. _Especially_ when that someone was a boy. Jean almost hadn’t believed families like that really existed.

“I’m sure they’ll love you, too,” Marco said instead, pulling Jean around to kiss him.

Both of them jumped back when there was a loud banging at the door, accompanied by a loud, “JEAN KIRSCHTEIN, GET THE _FUCK_ OUT HERE!”

“Fuck, Ymir, I thought we were done with this,” Jean grumbled, unwillingly leaving his cute new boyfriend on the bed for the second time now.

However, the Ymir waiting behind the door was hardly the bitter one he was used to. Instead, she was smiling. Like, a lot. She held out her arms excitedly and raised her eyebrows, like Jean was supposed to know what she was grinning about.

And after a moment, he did.

“ _No_.”

“No what?” Ymir prompted, still wearing a huge smile.

“You didn’t.”

“Didn’t _what_?” Oh, she wanted Jean to say it so much. And how could he deny her that?

“You got with Christa last night.”

“You bet your fucking _ass_ I got with Christa last night!” Ymir shouted victoriously, holding up her hand for what ended up being the most painful high five Jean had ever experienced.

“Shit,” Jean mumbled, shaking out his hand. “And it was everything you hoped and dreamed?”

“You kidding? It was the best fucking night of my life,” Ymir sighed, leaning against the doorway with a starry look in her eyes. “Oh, wait,” she said, shaking herself out of it, “your date was last night, right? How’d it go?”

“Uh...” Jean turned and looked over behind him, Marco getting up and stepping into view with a shy wave.

Ymir’s jaw dropped. “ _No_.”

“Yeah,” Jean said with a shrug.

“ _Dude_ ,” Ymir said, punching Jean’s shoulder. “You two... fucking hell, that’s amazing.”

“Us two? _You_ two!” Jean pointed out, punching Ymir’s shoulder back (partially as payback, because her punch _really hurt_ ).

“Okay, you know what? Coffee. The four of us. Hell, let’s invite Mikasa and Annie, too. I’m in a good mood.”

“You buying?”

Ymir narrowed her eyes. “What, are you nuts?”

~~~

There was one last thing Jean had to do before he felt like things were really settled, so Marco agreed to go with him on the way to Sawney and Bean’s. Well, it wasn’t really on the way... like, at all... but still. Jean had to go to the frat house to properly quit the fraternity. And Marco probably should’ve been nervous but... Well, the fraternity boys didn’t really scare him anymore. Plus, it’s not like the frat house was scary. He’d gotten a blow job from Levi on their stupid couch when they all went out to a concert. That kind of takes the scariness out of a place. Marco was here just for moral support for Jean.

However, when Jean knocked, no one came to the door. So he knocked again. Then he rang the doorbell. And nothing.

“I guess they’re out?” Marco said.

“Yeah, I-”

“Wait!” called a voice from inside, followed by the clicking of a lock being undone. Then the door swung open and it was definitely not a frat boy standing there. Instead it was a cute, ginger girl in a big T-shirt and no pants. Petra.

“Oh, hey, Marco!” she said cheerfully. “And... Jean, right?”

“Yeah,” Jean said, quickly turning pink.

“Hey, Petra,” Marco said, chuckling at Jean’s reaction. “Is there someone from the fraternity here that Jean could talk to? Preferably a higher up?”

“Oh, finally quitting?” Petra said, making a sympathetic face.

“Wait, ‘finally’?” Jean snapped.

“Sorry,” Petra laughed, “I just mean... Well, you don’t really fit in with these assholes, do you? Levi and I had a bet going for how long it’d take you.”

Jean relaxed, but looked slightly confused, like he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. “Oh.”

Marco wondered vaguely who’d won the bet, but decided to keep his mouth shut.

“And no, no one’s available,” Petra continued. “Well, I mean, they’re _here_ , but no one’s coming to the door anytime soon. They all got completely wasted last night and the hangovers... aren’t pretty.”

“Really? Even Levi?”

“Oh, no, he’s out tutoring,” Petra laughed. “It’s actually really exciting, he’s just been hired by some rich kid’s parents, and they offered some pretty nice money for it. Like, nothing ridiculous, but he’ll finally be able to rent an apartment of his own and get out of this dump.”

“Really?” Marco said with a grin. “That’s great!”

“Yeah, I’m really excited for him,” Petra said with a smile. “I’m making sure he picks somewhere good, ‘cause I’m moving in there if things keep going well.”

“Uh, sorry to interrupt,” Jean cut in, “but, like, what should I do?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell the boys you quit,” Petra said, waving off his concerns. “No fuss, no chance of them trying to spring any stupid fees on you.

“Oh,” Jean said, his face some weird combination of disappointment, presumably from not being able to have his dramatic “fuck you” to the frat boys, and surprise, probably because he hadn’t even though of them trying to pull anything. Marco had to choke back another laugh at that. “Uh, thanks.”

“No problem.”

~~~

“If anyone asks, that moment was really cool, okay?” Jean grumbled as he held the door open for Marco.

“Of course,” Marco said with a grin, giving Jean a peck as he stepped past him into the warm coffee shop. Jean followed him in with what was probably the most disgustingly lovesick smile he’d ever had.

Ymir and Christa were already there waiting for them, as were Mikasa and Annie. Ymir noticed Jean and Marco immediately and waved them over excitedly, throwing an arm around Christa and almost making her spill her coffee all over herself.

“ _Ymir_ ,” Christa grumbled as she set down her mug, wiping some splashed coffee from her cheek with the back of her hand. Still, she was smiling, and took Ymir’s kiss on the cheek with eyelids fluttering closed and cheeks adorably pink.

Mikasa and Annie, on the other hand, were bickering.

“Dude, we have been over this a thousand times.”

“And you’ve been wrong a thousand times,” Mikasa insisted. “Survey Corps is better than The Military Police.”

“Okay, Ymir,” Annie said, turning her glare elsewhere. “Who’s better?”

“Don’t care,” Ymir said, rolling her eyes.

“Just pick one.”

“If I had to pick, Survey Corps.”

“Ha,” said Mikasa.

“Shut up. Christa?”

Christa looked away, like she wanted to avoid conflict, but still, she mumbled, “Survey Corps.”

“Fucking hell, what is wrong with you people? Marco? Did you ever listen to ‘em?”

Jean watched Marco as he turned pink and gave a nervous smile. “Uh... no.”

“Fuck. Jean?”

Jean sighed. “I used to like The MPs, I really did. But Survey Corps’s better.”

“Fuck literally all of you.”

“I win,” Mikasa said with a soft smile.

“Fuck you the most.”

“What else is new?” Mikasa said, giving Annie a peck on the cheek.

“ _Christ_ , it’s cold.”

They all looked up to see Eren holding open the door for Armin as he rushed inside, Eren following close behind.

“Hey!” Jean said, taking Eren’s chivalry as a sign of good things. “So how did-”

Jean immediately stopped as he noticed Eren’s frantic hand-waving and throat-slitting motion.

“H-how did you know we were here?” Jean quickly finished. Marco nudged him as if to say, _nice save._

“Oh, Mikasa invited us,” Armin said with a pleasant smile, completely unaware.

“Y-yeah,” Eren said. “Mikasa.”

Jean nodded. “Oh. Uh, cool! Hey, uh, Eren, come with me to the counter, I still haven’t ordered.”

“I’ll come, too,” Marco said.

“Hey, what do you want, Armin?” Eren said. “I’ll order for you.”

“Green tea,” Armin said cheerfully, taking a seat next to Christa. “Thanks!”

“N-no problem,” Eren said, quickly joining Jean and Marco out of earshot of the group.

“What the fuck?” Jean asked.

“I didn’t fucking tell him,” Eren groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Why not?” Marco asked.

Eren sighed. “I just... What kind of asshole would I be to force that on him now?” He looked over to where Armin was sitting. “I mean, he’s still trying to figure this shit out... I don’t want to make him deal with this now. I mean... that’d just be kinda selfish, wouldn’t it?”

Jean nodded and lightly hit Eren’s shoulder. “You’re a good dude, Jaeger.”

“Fuck off, this still sucks.”

“You’re doing the right thing,” Marco assured him, putting a hand on Eren’s shoulder.

“Gross, you’re covered in Jean,” Eren mumbled, pushing Marco’s arm away.

Marco just laughed. “Um, I’m pretty sure you were covered in Jean not too long ago...”

Eren’s jaw dropped. “You told _Marco_?! Christ, Kirschtein, how many people did you tell?”

“Only him! And Armin. And Ymir. And Christa. But that’s it.”

“Uh, are you boys gonna order?”

They all immediately turned around to where Hanji was looking at them, her expression some cross between confusion and impatience. They all immediately forced a laugh and ordered, which probably looked extremely suspicious (even though they weren’t actually doing anything suspicious).

“Alright, guys, I’ll have those right out for you,” Hanji said with a smile. They all turned to head back to their group, until Hanji added, “Actually, Jean, can I talk to you?”

Marco and Eren headed on while Jean stayed behind. _Great, what did I do now?_

Hanji just looked at him a moment before leaning over the counter and saying in a hushed tone, “Alright, Jean. Which one of those boys are you dating?”

Jean’s face practically spontaneously combusted. “W- _what_?”

“Eren or Marco. Which is it?”

“W-who says I’m dating either of them?!” _Fucking hell._

Hanji frowned. “Are you not?”

“...Well, no, but-”

And Hanji perked right back up. “C’mon, settle a bet for me.”

“A _bet_?”

“Erwin and I got five bucks on it.”

Jean squinted. “Who did you put money on?”

“Tell me first,” Hanji insisted, practically bouncing up and down on her toes.

Jean sighed. “Marco.”

“ _Ha_! I _knew_ it!” she shouted, pumping her fist in the air. “Erwin can kiss my ass!”

“He seriously thought I was dating Eren?” Jean said weakly.

“Oh, he was dead convinced,” Hanji said with a laugh. “I tried to tell him, but he would just smirk like he knew better, stare off into the distance at nothing... And he explained his whole theory like he was giving a goddamn speech. I would’ve believed it, too, if Marco wasn’t in the picture. But he is. And now Erwin owes me five bucks. So _ha_.”

Jean nodded. “Well. I’m just gonna... go back to my group now.”

“Oh, of course!” Hanji said, waving him away. “Go with your friends! And boyfriend!”

_Fucking fuck, Hanji..._

“What was that about?” Marco asked as he rejoined the group.

“I just won Hanji five bucks.”

“Huh?”

“Not important,” Jean sighed.

“Oh, Annie, do you want to tell Jean what you were just telling me?” Marco said.

“Oh, yeah. Apparently you didn’t know I’m a trans girl?”

Jean opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out.

“Yeah, I think it’s fair to say Jean had no idea,” Ymir chuckled.

“Shut up,” Jean mumbled.

“We’re still cool, yeah?” Annie asked, looking surprisingly chill about the whole thing (although, at second glance, she was holding Mikasa’s hand pretty tightly).

“Of course,” Marco said immediately.

Jean nodded. “Y-yeah! No, definitely. Absolutely. We are _completely_ cool.”

“How many adjectives are you gonna use?” Eren laughed.

“They’re _adverbs_ , you fucking swine,” Jean snapped.

Annie suddenly let out a small giggle. Then she couldn’t stop giggling. The rest of the cafe was practically silent, but Annie was pretty much dying laughing, clutching her sides and falling into Mikasa’s lap. Hanji stopped by with the rest of the group’s drinks, but no one paid her much attention, still watching Annie out of amusement and slight fear.

“Jeez, Annie, he’s not that funny,” Ymir pointed out. Christa hit her arm.

“Oh, Jean,” Marco said, looking at his cell phone and nudging him. “My mom just texted. They got you a plane ticket. The flight’s tomorrow at noon.”

“Oh, jeez, I can pay you guys back for that-”

“You don’t have to do that,” Marco said with a smile that made Jean’s heart melt. “Really, we want to have you.”

“You’re spending Thanksgiving at Marco’s?” Armin asked, looking delighted.

“Yeah,” Jean said sheepishly, blushing a little. Marco took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Fuck, everyone here has someone except me,” Eren suddenly realized.

“Neither do I,” Armin pointed out, playfully nudging Eren’s arm.

“Oh, right. Shit. Sorry,” Eren apologized, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just figured, I mean, since you’re ace...”

Armin shrugged. “Well, I mean, I don’t feel attraction like _that_ to people. But I could see myself... maybe... someday... uh...”

Jean had never seen someone go from being as white as a marble statue to as red as a fucking tomato as quickly as Armin did in that moment.

“Go on,” Christa said encouragingly, tapping Armin with her foot.

“I could maybe... be with somebody,” Armin mumbled. “Just as long as they were okay with... y’know.”

Eren looked like he was about to have a stroke.

“A toast,” Ymir said suddenly, standing up and raising her mug. “Now, when I showed up here, I didn’t have any friends. And now I have...” She did a quick count around the circle. “Six friends and a girlfriend. And... this is the happiest I’ve ever been, okay?” It was clear she was starting to get embarrassed saying such sentimental things. “So... yeah. Thanks.”

“That wasn’t really a toast,” Mikasa pointed out.

“Fine. To acceptance, or something.”

“Here here,” Eren said, raising his drink with everyone else before taking a sip. And, as usual, Jean ended up burning the fuck out of his tongue. _They really need to serve the drinks cooler here..._

Jean looked at Marco out of the corner of his eye, watched him blowing gently on his coffee, being much smarter than Jean had. Then he looked around the circle and saw Ymir running her fingers through Christa’s hair and kissing the top of her head, making Christa smile and laugh. Armin was offering Eren a sip of his tea, and Eren’s voice cracked when he accepted, making him turn red and Armin laugh. Mikasa and Annie were back to bickering, but they were also playing with each other’s hands and laughing in between arguments. They were just happy to be there, with everyone.

It was the happiest Jean had ever been, too.


	16. Je t'aime.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue.

“Here’s your coffee, babe.”

Marco looked up to see Jean smiling down at him, handing him a big Starbucks cup and holding another for himself. Early mornings at the airport were hell, but having Jean right there with him made it okay.

“ _Merci, mon chèri_ ,” Marco said as he took the warm cup in his hands. Thank you, darling. “How was that?”

“ _Très bon_ ,” Jean said, taking the seat next to him. “I’m telling you, my grand-mère is going to be really impressed with how quickly you’ve picked this stuff up.”

“All I can say is ‘hello’, ‘thank you’, and ‘where’s the bathroom?’,” Marco grumbled, popping the lid off of his cup and gently blowing on the steaming latte.

“Not true,” Jean countered. “You can say ‘please’, too.”

“How do you say ‘shut up’?”

Jean just laughed. “Hey, you didn’t get much notice that you’re going to Paris for Christmas. It’s not your fault.”

“You’re sure your grandma is okay with this?”

“You kidding? Marco, you were there during the call,” Jean pointed out. “She was practically _begging_ for you to come.”

As Jean said this, Marco could tell he was trying not to smile too much, and he knew exactly why. His grand-mère had called him on Thanksgiving, to wish him a happy holiday (“even if it is an American one”) and ask why he wasn’t with his family. Jean took a deep breath, got a death grip on Marco’s hand, and told her that he was at his boyfriend’s instead. He was terrified that she wasn’t going to accept him for it, but to his relief, his grandma instead reacted by asking a thousand questions about Marco before begging Jean to bring him with him and come visit her for Christmas. Marco reacted a little too strongly (he may or may not have ripped the phone from Jean’s hands and thanked her a thousand times, bouncing up and down in his seat like a five year old), but... well, he had never even been out of the country before. He was really excited. And Jean was excited to see his grand-mère again. So even though it was six in the morning on a Saturday, and they were both tired as fuck (maybe staying up late to get each other off one last time before spending a week at Jean’s grandmother’s wasn’t as necessary as it had seemed at the time...), they were happy.

“Think she’ll like me?” Marco asked, taking a sip of his drink.

Jean actually laughed. “Seriously, she’s gonna adore you. Prepare to get spoiled, Bodt.”

Marco smiled. “Oh, hey, have you heard from Armin yet?”

“He hasn’t asked him yet!” Jean said incredulously, making Marco laugh. “Seriously, Eren fucking _brought him home for Christmas_ , just like Mikasa brought Annie, and Armin _still_ doesn’t have the courage to ask him out.”

“Text Mikasa and tell her to put up some mistletoe,” Marco suggested.

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” Jean said, pulling out his phone to send off a text. “How do you think Eren’s gonna react when this finally goes down?”

“I think he might just burst into tears,” Marco said.

“Or yell,” Jean offered.

“Or faint.”

“Ooh, I hope he faints,” Jean muttered as he typed,  _mistletoe. u know what 2 do._ and sent it off to Mikasa.

Just then, the airport staff announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, flight 104, nonstop to Paris, France, will begin boarding shortly.”

“This is it,” Marco practically squealed, grabbing Jean’s arm.

Jean grinned back at him. “Last kiss in America?”

Marco immediately leaned forward and gave Jean a quick kiss before standing up and pulling Jean to his feet. “C’mon, Jean, _Paris_.”

“Getting to the front of the line won’t make the plane take off any faster-”

“ _Paris_.”

Jean stopped suddenly before pulling Marco into his arms and hugging him tightly.

“I love you.”

Marco’s stomach dipped, and he hid his grin in the crook of Jean’s neck as he hugged back. “I love you, too.”

Marco couldn’t even believe how perfect everything was right now. He was about to go on his first big adventure with his first boyfriend. To think even just a month ago, he was still so quiet and afraid to say anything, when now... Fuck, nothing could silence him, he was so happy... He wanted to scream it from the rooftops, to anyone who would listen. Everything was just...

_This is so right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you all.


End file.
